#that burst took a million years

[whytheylosttheirminds]

happy birthday, baby (part one: birthday girl)

(boyfriend!rafe x girlfriend!reader two-shot)

summary it's your first birthday as rafe's girlfriend, and he's desperate to show you just how special you are to him...

content fluff! smut! 18+ minors do not interact!

(part two)

-----------------ꪆৎ‎---------------------

“It’s too much, Rafe!”

The pile of presents in front of you is outrageous. Bows and bags and big, meticulously wrapped packages.

“Never too much for my girl,” he stands back, beaming as he watches you take in the display with your mouth agape.

“I don’t even know which one to open first,” you muse.

“Any of ‘em. Just not,” he steps forward and plucks one bag from the pile, “this one. This one’s for last.”

You eye him suspiciously as he sets the bag on the kitchen counter, out of reach. 

“What surprises do you have planned, Cameron?”

“If I told you,” he smiles, stepping behind you and wrapping his arms around your torso, “then they wouldn’t be surprises. Now pick a present or we’re gonna be here all day.”

“Excuse me, I will not be rushed on my birthday,” you say defiantly.

“Not rushing you,” he drops a kiss on your shoulder, “just got a lot of shit planned for ya, I don’t want to waste any time,” he clarifies.

“There’s more?” You turn in his grasp, eyes wide.

He’d already woken you up with breakfast in bed, and an adorably off-key, groggy voiced rendition of ‘Happy Birthday.’ His bedroom was full of flowers and balloons, including two big pink ones displaying your new age. After you ate the fluffiest pancakes you’d ever had in your life, he slipped a heavy diamond necklace around your neck, kissing your shoulders as he clasped it. Giving him a million thank you kisses, you told him you loved your present, and he chuckled, leading you to the kitchen to the mountain of additional presents you’re now ogling.

“So much more. I’ve got a whole day planned for you, so let’s get to it,” he said with a quick tap on your ass, making you giggle.

“Okay, okay! I want…that one,” you point to the largest package in the back of the pile, “‘cause it’s big.”

“Huh, where have I heard that before?” He pretends to think, a smug smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

You roll your eyes, shoving him back by his shoulder and scoffing, “you’re on another one today, I swear.”

“Just excited to celebrate you,” he grins, placing a quick kiss on your cheek before pulling the biggest present out of the pile.

You sit in one of his dining chairs, opening present after present, each one delighting you more than the last. Flashy and expensive; a new bag, two pairs of shoes that have been on your wishlist forever, jewelry until you’re dripping in diamonds and precious gems. Sweet and sentimental; a printed album of all your instagram posts since the two of you got together almost a year ago, a gold ring engraved with a handwritten message, a crystal picture frame with a shot of the two of you on his boat at sunset. 

You wonder if it’s possible for your heart to actually burst from affection.

When only one present remains, you eye the counter quizzically, waiting for him to bring you the little bag he had set aside. Rafe just makes himself busy picking up the discarded ribbons and wrapping paper, a little blush on his face as he focuses on the chore.

“Rafe…” you try to get his attention.

“Yeah?” He leans down to pick up a bow that had fallen under the table, when he stands, you step in front of him, grabbing the trash from his hands and setting it to the side. 

“I want my last present please,” you smile, hands cupped in front of you expectantly.

He scratches the top of his buzzed head, taking a deep breath, “why don’t we wait? I booked you a spa appointment so you should probably get ready…”

“Rafe,” you cross your arms over your chest, “why are you being all squirmy?”

“I don’t know, I just don’t know if you’ll like it, I don’t want you to think…anything.”

You had no idea what he meant by ‘think anything,’ but this whole you not liking something he took the time to pick out for you business was just nonsense. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you stood up on your tiptoes to place a soft, steady kiss on his lips. 

“Well I do know. I’m gonna love it, because you got it for me, and I love you,” you ease his worry.

You had told each other you loved each other for the first time a little over a month ago, but it still feels like fireworks everytime one of you says it. Nothing in life is sweeter than the sound of his quick, reassuring “love ya” before hanging up the phone, or his whispered, emotional “I love you so much,” when he’s buried inside you late at night.

“I love you too,” he grins.

“Good,” you place one more kiss on his lips, “then I would like my last present now, please.”

“Yes ma’am,” he smirks, walking you toward the kitchen, kissing you all the way as he backs you up step by step.

By the time you reach the kitchen island, you’ve almost forgotten about the striped gift bag waiting for you there, distracted by his lips and the cute little smooches they’re making against your mouth with each step.

He reaches back for the bag without pulling away, holding it behind his back as he ducks down for one last peck before swinging it forward and presenting it to you.

“We can take it back if you don’t li-” you silence him with a finger to his lips.

“Shhh, it’s my last present of the day, let me enjoy this,” you request.

He nods solemnly, waiting until you were looking away, too distracted by the tissue paper in the bag to see the smirk growing on his lips as he thought about his actual last present for you. A rush of nerves shoot through him as he pictures the little black velvet pouch sitting in his nightstand drawer. 

Obeying your request, he bites his tongue as you pull out the rest of the tissue paper. When you finally see what’s sitting in the bag, a slow, delighted smile spreads across your face. You don’t pull the gift out, just bite your lip as you blink up at him through your lashes. His cheeks are adorably pink. 

He’s never bought you lingerie before. He’s seen you in plenty of it, though. Hell, he cleared a whole drawer for you like a month after you started dating, telling you to take as much space as you needed as long as he was the only one who got to see you in it. But the thought of him actually going into the store and asking the sales lady for exactly what he wanted to see you in, surely pulling out his black card and telling her the price tag was not an issue, made your belly tighten with lust.

“Ah I see,” you smirk, “it’s a present for me and for you.”

He nods with a lick of his lips, “you gonna try it on for me?”

You lead him to the chair you were sitting in to open presents, guiding him to sit and placing one more kiss on his cheek before excitedly padding to the bedroom to get changed. He watches you go with his tongue pressed into his cheek, readying himself, wondering how the fuck someone like him got lucky enough to be with someone like you.

Rafe had picked out the cutest little set for you. Matching floral bra and panties, sheer and constructed with hardly any fabric at all, a matching garter belt and thigh high sheer stockings. You gasp when you see the price tag, understanding now why the fabric feels so nice and the stitching is so intricate. 

You take your time pulling it on, both to be gentle with the expensive pieces and to tease the man waiting for you in the other room. The thought of him squirming in that chair wondering what the hell was taking so long makes you giggle.

“The fuck are you laughing about in there?” He calls out impatiently from the other room. “You’re killin’ me!” 

You laugh hard at that, head falling back in delight as you clip the last strap of the garter into place. You add a pair of kitten heels to tie it all together and run your fingers through your hair, one quick look in the mirror to appreciate yourself before stepping slowly from the room.

“Sorry to make you wait, baby,” you tilt your head apologetically and step towards him tauntingly. 

Rafe just smiles and looks to the ceiling, shaking his head slowly in disbelief.

“What?” You ask as you approach, hands finding his and bringing them to rest on either side of your waist.

His thumbs trace circles into your skin, “just don’t know how I got so fuckin’ lucky. Must’ve done something right in a past life.”

Your skin goes hot at his words, and the way his eyes are skimming over your body like you’re the eighth wonder of the world.

“Nah, I think you just did a lot of things right in this life,” you pull his arms so he’ll rise to his feet.

Rafe lifts his arm with his hand still holding yours, spinning you with his pointer finger like a ballerina, memorizing every inch of you as you twirl for him.

“No man could possibly be good enough to deserve you, baby,” he responds, his large, rough hands running over your bare hips, guiding you to hop up and wrap your legs around his waist. “I’m just the luckiest guy in the world.”

You kiss him, too overwhelmed by the way he’s looking at you and holding you up to say anything in response. No one has ever made you feel so special, so wanted. He’d kneel down and kiss your feet if you asked him to. But that’s not what you want right now.

“Need you, Rafe,” you mumble against his lips, legs squeezing him tighter, hands splayed on the back of his head like you’re trying to permanently seal his mouth to yours, “please.”

“You don’t gotta beg, angel,” he coos, “I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Cause it’s my birthday?” You tease.

“No. I’ll give you anything you want every day of your fucking life,” he swears, “you deserve the world.”

But you don’t want the world, you just want him.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you sigh, lowering your core over his growing hardness, playfulness gone and replaced by frenzied need.

In response, he shifts to hold you up with one arm, using the other to sweep aggressively at the counter and knock all its contents to the floor chaotically. You love him wild like this, complete disregard for the dishes and various items he’s just sent flying across the kitchen, too drunk on you to even attempt making it to the bedroom. 

He drops you onto the counter, not too hard to hurt, but just hard enough to make your tits bounce and a little “hmph!” to rise from your chest. You’re pulling him to you in seconds, nails clawing at his shoulders and the back of his head as his lips devour yours. He slots his hips between your knees, forcing your legs to fall open for him.

“Gonna make you feel so good, birthday girl,” he promises, chest hovering over you powerfully, lowering you slowly until you’re laying down on the counter, your legs dangling off the edge. 

He kisses down the column of your throat, nipping and nibbling all the way as he hooks his fingers to slip under the straps of the garter belt, pulling until the clasps break away from the top of your stockings with a snap!

You gasp, “you’re gonna break my present!”

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he shakes his head, bent in half to lower his mouth down your body, sucking purple splotches into the sensitive skin of your stomach, claiming you with every mark.

When he’s satisfied with his artwork, he lifts himself up, piercing blue eyes consuming you with an adoration you’ve never experienced before. You writhe a little under his hungry gaze, and his eyes wander to the panties he gifted you, corners of his mouth perking in a grin. His hand snakes up your thigh and he sweeps his thumb over your covered slit without warning, making you gasp and arch off the cold counter.

“Looks like you already made a mess of your present anyway,” his eyes twinkle with mischief as he spreads your wetness through the fabric.

“Can’t help it,” you whine under the pressure, “you always make me so fucking wet.”

He’s desperate to taste you, lowering to his knees and dragging your panties down with him. Gripping your hips, he pulls you to the edge of the counter, closer to his mouth. He nips at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, the sting outweighed by the pleasure. 

You arch toward him, desperate to feel his mouth on you, but his fingers find you first. He spreads you, groaning a strained ‘fuckkkk’ at the sight. He gathers your slick onto his fingers so slowly, so deliberately, it’s driving you insane. 

Finally, finally, he lowers his mouth and licks, ever so gently, up your center. You’re on fire, the cold marble counter below you doing little to cool your spiked body temperature. 

Between deliberate licks he whispers praises, his tongue and voice taking turns worshiping you.

“Do you know I belong to you?” He confesses, his other hand gripping the edge of the counter so hard it almost cracks. “Do you understand that you fucking own me?”

“You talk so pretty, baby,” you moan, losing your grasp on language as he sends lightning bolts of pleasure shooting through your body, “love that mouth.”

“It’s yours,” he promises, finally lapping at your clit with a pointed tongue, “it’s all yours, everything I’ve got.”

“Just want you!” you cry out when he pulls the sensitive bud into his mouth and sucks hard.

“You have me, ‘m not going anywhere,” he says after releasing your clit with a pop. His middle finger, already soaked from you, dips into your entrance slowly. “You’re my everything, forever.”

Rafe continues to wrap you in soliloquies of praise as his other hand kneads the skin of your stomach reverently, like a potter molding his clay.

It’s these promises that make your head spin, drowning in the tapestry he weaves with his words until all you can think, all you know, is that you love him. When a second finger enters you and his mouth finds the spot he knows so well, everything in the world fades. The only thing that means anything is this man and the way he makes you feel.

His fingers twist and twirl inside you while his mouth works your clit. You’re beside yourself, feeling your release creep closer and closer with each flick of his tongue. You grab the edge of the counter top for purchase, but it’s not enough. Your hands paw at his head, wishing there was something more to ground you. 

You love his buzzcut, you had an appointment in your shared calendar each month for him to dutifully sit on a stool in the bathroom while you redid it with the electric clippers, but in this moment you wish for the first time that he’d grow it out. You tuck the thought away for later.

He loves the way you’re clawing at his scalp, and clenching around his fingers, knowing you’re close like he knows everything about you. He grabs one of your hands, offering his to you so you can squeeze as hard as you need to, loving the pain as he pushes you to the edge.

You cry out his name when you come, nearly breaking the bones in his fingers. He doesn’t stop until the very last wave of ecstasy rolls through you, his body hovering over yours as he soothes you through the cool down.

“You have no idea what you mean to me,” he whispers into your collarbone, following the vulnerable words with a shaky kiss.

“I think I have some idea,” your palm glides over his scalp, where you were just leaving scratches, inspecting to make sure you hadn’t done too much damage. “Because of how much you mean to me.”

He just shakes his head, his buzzed hair tickling your chin.

You both rise from the counter, Rafe straightening your lingerie set and taking in his gift to you one more time. He stands between your legs, fists on the counter as he leans forward on flexed arms.

“How am I supposed to top this?” You wonder aloud, hands smoothing over his shoulders and your head tilting in that adorable way he’s obsessed with.

“What do you mean?” He puzzles.

“When your birthday comes around,” you explain, “you’ve set the bar so high.”

Rafe smiles, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. His gaze wanders from you as he pulls back slightly.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he shakes his head.

“Are you joking? And miss the chance to celebrate you?” 

“We- I don’t really do birthdays,” he says, and before you can pry any further he adds, “plus yours isn’t even close to over yet.”

Rafe lifts you effortlessly from the counter, making you yelp in surprise. You rest your head on his shoulder as he carries you to the bedroom, thinking obsessively about the way he accidentally said ‘we.’

Your heart breaks picturing younger Rafe, no birthday candles to blow out on his big day, no crowd of friends and family singing to him, no one to make him understand how special and worth celebrating he is. 

No, that just wouldn’t do. You start planning the second he falls asleep that night, determined to make his next birthday the best he’s ever had.

-----------------ꪆৎ‎---------------------

for more boyfriend!rafe see my masterlist ♡

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[archangeldyke-all]

Imagine reader and sevika when they have to good cop bad cop isha because she keeps trying to dye the cats fur and they have to explain that the kitty probably doesn’t like that☹️

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE

men and minors dni

jinx is up in piltover for the evening to go to a metal concert with vi, which has left isha on her own.

it's not like she doesn't like you and sevika-- you'd go as far as to say she loves you, even if it's only been a few months. but you guys aren't jinx. neither of you have her energy, creativity, or spontaneity, and after a few rounds of hide and seek isha had sighed with disappointment and sadly informed you and sevika that you guys were boring.

sevika took offense. you just laughed and ruffled isha's hair.

"jinx'll be home by the time you wake up in the morning tomorrow, kiddo. you're just gonna have to entertain yourself 'til then. wanna help me cook dinner?"

isha makes a face of mild disgust. you chuckle.

"wanna come grocery shopping with me?" sevika offers.

isha sighs long and dramatically, rolling her eyes and walking back to her bedroom. over her shoulder, she signs nevermind.

when her door clicks closed, sevika bursts into laughter. "thank fuckin' god she doesn't talk. little miss's got an attitude."

you grin. "she's really a little mini-jinx, isn't she?" you ask fondly.

the evening passes quickly after that. sevika heads out to the grocery store, a long list and a bunch of re-usable bags in hand. you get to work doing the laundry that's accumulated over the past day, mopping the kitchen floor that never seems to stay clean, then getting started on dinner.

from time to time, a thump or a giggle will leak out of the girls' room over the sound of the radio isha's clicked on. it makes you smile, hearing her play.

sevika gets home just as you're throwing your veggies in the oven to roast.

"how were the markets?" you ask.

"chaos. how was it here?" she asks, kissing you on the cheek as she sets her bags down. you both get started putting food away.

"quiet. isha's in her room. i got most of that blood stain out of your shirt, but there were some stubborn splotches. it's soaking in some vinegar now, i'll see how it looks in a bit. dinner's almost ready."

"hey, i got a discount on the lunch meat!" sevika says, turning around to face you with a grin as she presents the paper packages of salami and turkey to you. you grin.

never in a million years would you have guessed that your life would come to this: being this disgustingly domestic with sevika in your kitchen, getting excited over grocery discounts on your kids' favorite foods. you wouldn't trade it for the fucking world.

"oh yeah? how'd you manage that, big mama?" you ask. sevika rolls her eyes, but her smile never fades.

"knew the guy running the deli." she says, tossing the meat onto the counter to free her hands enough to pull you toward her. "he owed me a favor."

"did you intimidate the deli guy, sevika?" you ask as you wrap your arms around her shoulders. she grins, her eyes sparkling.

"who me? baby, i would never do such a thing." she says through a shit eating grin.

you lean in to kiss her, unable to stop yourself when she's smiling at you like that. she sighs happily against you, one of her hands trialing down to squeeze your ass, making you giggle.

there's a jingle, then a quiet thump, and you pull away to glare over sevika's shoulders at chicken the cat as she jumps onto the counter to try to steal sevika's discounted deli meat.

"chicken get-- what the fuck?" you laugh as you stare at the cat.

sevika turns around to see what you're blinking at, and she bursts into laughter.

chicken's half bald-- most of her hair growing in small grey splotches around her body, her pink skin on full display in some patches.

now, though, chicken's just a blob of blue.

she sits on the counter, licking her paw, her tail flicking happily behind her as she waits for you to turn your back again. there are small blue paw prints trailing from isha's bedroom all the way to the kitchen.

sevika's still cackling.

you groan, reaching out for the poor, poor cat. "oh, chicken, what did she do to you, huh?" you ask, pulling the cat into your arms.

"meow." chicken replies, cuddling up against you.

"oh, janna, now you know why isha's been so quiet." sevika giggles. you groan. your hands are actively turning blue as you hold the cat.

"isha!" you call.

sevika tries to bite back her smile as little footsteps come running toward the kitchen. you elbow her when she sputters at the sight of your kid: her hands, clothes, and half her face stained blue too.

hi big mama. isha greets sevika waving happily. sevika grins and pulls isha up into her arms. when she comes eye-level to chicken, isha grins. you like chicken's hair? she signs, her little feet kicking around sevika's hips in excitement. did it myself! she signs proudly.

"i love it kid. i don't think chicken likes it, though." sevika says, giggling. you glare at her, cursing her for forcing you to be bad cop again.

what do you mean?

"isha, baby, you remember how when we dyed your hair we did it outside so it wouldn't get messy?" you ask. she nods. sevika snorts. "is your room all blue now, babe?" you ask with a wince. isha nods again. you sigh gustily. sevika cackles. "okay. well, next time you wanna do an art project, you gotta let one of us know, first, so we can help you not make messes." you say.

isha pouts, signing a shy sorry. you sigh and lean forward to kiss her.

"'s okay, baby. and... if you wanna dye the cat's hair again, you gotta tell us. cat hair is different than human hair-- chicken could be allergic to some of the stuff in this blue dye." you say. isha nods again, her eyes big and watery. you huff and shake your head-- unable to be any meaner with the sweet baby girl.

"there's dye out there made for pets, baby. we can buy some when chicken grows out of her blue look now. maybe we can do purple next, whaddya think chicken?" sevika asks.

"meow."

isha giggles, and you sigh, wrapping your free arm around your wife and the giggling girl in her arms. "you're too fuckin' cute for your own good, you know." you whisper into isha's scalp.

she giggles and nods. you said a bad word, ms. baby. she signs. sevika bursts into laughter, and you grin.

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[mooningningg]

"You're insufferable." part i, jjk.

-in which you got in a heated argument with jjk men.

part ii.

toji, satoru, and nanami, (f).

warnings, genre. swearing! not proofread! | angst to fluff! |

notes i. this was requested from like a year ago so... yeah.

Toji. the scarred man was flaring up your temper for sure, you sat at the your side of the passanger seat. drowning in your own sea of thoughts whilst you looked outside the window of the moving car. tiny drops of water was plastered right on the car window. the sound of pitter-patter by the rain can be heard but slightly muffled.

the car however was silent, toji, your boyfriend was driving with a deadly grip on the steering wheel. you both were driving home after a disasterous date. it was going on fine at the beginning but all of a sudden, your meticulous boyfriend and you were suddenly fighting with him over something you didn't seem to think about now. you were just fuming in your seat because he had raised his voice at you in front of many people, "are you going to keep up this being a bitch act of yours?" he bites, you can feel the venom seeping through his voice.

you stayed silent, trying to send him the hint that you weren't going to talk to him any sooner. he hisses beside you before slamming his hand on the steering wheel, making you look at him with a flinch, "damn it!" "what the hell is wrong with you, toji!" "now you decide to talk to me."

"if you were just being so fucking easy back there, then maybe i wouldn't have yelled." the man beside you fills you in, trying to point out your mistakes from the fight.

"oh so now it's my fault that you have anger issues that you can not somehow get a hold of? you're a fucking assassin, toji. yet you act like you can't color inside the lines with a gun to your fucking head."

"what the fuck did you just say?" his voice grumbles, and just in time for a thunder to roar in the sky, light flashes in a second before the rain came down heavier. toji took a glance at you, his eyes were filled with anger and you can tell, you calmed yourself down. looking out from the window again you wrapped your own arms around your body to provide warmness, you couldn't handle it anymore. there was never a day where you don't find yourself arguing with the scarred man over and over again, you were tired, to an extent.

"you're a fucking jerk." you mumble, resting your head on the window as you feel your tears starting to build up. it hurts you, him being too comfortable yelling at you in front of a crowd, it shatters your heart into millions of pieces. you knew you were hard to love but... toji made you feel like there wasn't hope at all.

"I hate you." it came out like a whisper, your voice vulnerable and weak. toji's grip loosened, his eyes softening in an instant with his face muscle finally relaxing, but not in a good way. damn did those three words, eight letters, stab his heart a million times repeatingly, over and over again. he was hurting you, and now he realizes it, he has gone too far now, "y/n."his voice was gentle now, no sign of anger or irritation.

you didn't answer, you felt so weak now. you felt like you were going to burst into tears within a second, " 'm sorry." your boyfriend says, your heart warms up in an instant, it was unfair, he had this effect on you and you just can't ignore it, "whatever." you replied with a sob at the end of your sentence, you had been crying again... because of him.

toji didn't like seeing you like this so he swore in him, he would kill anyone that made you cry, and if he did make you holler again, he'll end his self instead.

Satoru. "This is crazy." you say in frustration, looking at your lover as if he has grown tw heads to make your eyes shine with horrid, "oh this is crazy? you're

crazy." the silver haired exclaims with his tone sharp and absolute, you were taken a back by his response, "oh wow, don't try to point this on me when you're the one who flirted with a girl." "it's like I can't even do anything in this relationship anymore, you have this fucking vision in your head that im so fucking wrong all the time."

"you're just making up excuses, satoru. it won't cover up the fact that you flirted with the girl." you pointed at him, your eyes glared at him with your voice slightly raising. smoke was basically coming out of satoru's ear, he was fuming, "you're insecure, that's what you are." "what did you just say?" "you make a big fuss whenever i talk to another girl, you're afraid ill le...

there was the sound of your palm hitting his right cheek, it echos through out the room with your eyes tearing up. who am i kidding, it already rolled down your cheeks, your eyes held betrayal. satoru, never in your life did he point out your insecurities in an argument.

"what happened to you. if that's what you think then I'm afraid we're better off by ourselves." you say calmly, your tears still can't help themselves from falling, "y/n." "no, you don't say those hurtful things and expect me to be okay."

"im sorry, i know i crossed the line." the silver haired exclaims with a saddened voice, the slap was like a slap from reality. truly the reason why he realized his mistake. "i would never do that to you." your voice cracked, you couldn't anymore, the burden rose up to your throat and it made hard for you to say something without finding it hard. you were crying now.

backing away from your boyfriend your back hits the wall and you slide down to the floor whilst trying to calm yourself down. and just like that you feel your boyfriends familiar scent crouch down to your level, grabbing your hands gently to replace his slender hands to wipe away your tears. "im sorry baby, im so... fuck, i hate seeing you like this."

Nanami. "im just trying to calmly apologize to you, i dont want to fight anymore." the blonde says, he brings his hand up to his mouth in a frustrated manner, you stood there, your arms crossed in front of your chest with your eyebrows furrowed. your face was bear but the outfit you were supposed to wear to your date with him was still on your body, "how is that going to help me, is it going to bring back the two hours i waited for you!" you exclaim, you were frustrated, the man forgot your date because he went to a party at work. and he didn't even tell you he was going, so it caused a misunderstanding, and you waited fir him like a fool.

"did you get hurt? i said i was sorry didn't i? can i go to bed now." he says in almost a monotone voice, you were offended by the way he reacted. it was almost like he didn't even care about your feelings. your eyes by now had widened, "so you're invalidating my feelings now? so what you said sorry?" "god your voice it's so..." "its so what." "...." "answer me!"

"fucking annoying! that's what it is, you yell, you yap do you ever get tired?" nanami finally loses his composure and his words were like daggers stabbing your heart. and if you listened closely, you can hear your heart breaking into pieces, and shattering beneath you. "you... you're the least man i have ever thought to say those words to me."

"wait." but it was too late, you had slammed the door in your shared room, nanami was left inside the cold atmosphere of the living room. he drops his self to the couch, placing his elbow on both his knees as he runs his finger through his blonde locks in frustration, he fucked up.

he needed to calm his self down before comforting you, in case he hurts you again.

[chibinasuu]

Ace x Reader ― confession; stargazing

part of the cozy holidays event

🎁 ― @daydreamer-in-training tags: sfw, fluff, GN!Reader, no use of y/n, friends to lovers, jealous!ace

Fire Fist Ace took off his hat, looked up at the night sky, and sighed. 

The sound of raucous laughter, glasses clinking, and the jolly music that flowed from the Whitebeard Pirates’ infamous New Year’s Eve party seemed so distant from his perch on the crow’s nest of the Moby Dick. 

The Second Division Commander pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, trying – and failing – to erase the image of the First Division Commander’s arm slung around your shoulders as he refilled your drink, deeply engrossed in a playful debate with you about the medicinal properties of the plants you discovered on the last island. 

Ace had finally had enough and snuck away to the top of the mast when he saw Marco whisper something into your ear that made you burst into a fit of giggles.

He let out another sigh as he tried to suppress the burning ache in his heart. 

“Hey! What are you doing up here?”

Ace jumped at the sound of your familiar voice, his heartbeat quickening – partly from surprise, but partly because lately, it always seemed to do so whenever you were around. 

You climbed into the crow’s nest and sat beside your best friend, poking his bare shoulder, “You’re missing the party!”

Ace shrugged, “Needed some fresh air.” 

You leaned your head against the mast, taking in the vast, cloudless sky above you. 

The inky blackness was scattered with a million glittering stars, flickering brightly as they kept watch over the ship. 

It was a view you see almost every night, but most of the time took for granted. 

You smiled, “The stars are beautiful tonight.” 

“Yeah…” Ace glanced sideways, taking in your serene expression, swallowing the tightness in his throat as he reluctantly returned his sight to the stars, “Beautiful.” 

“Ace, look," you gasped excitedly, "It’s the Sea King!” 

The raven-haired man looked down at the ocean in alarm, “What? Where?” 

“Not down there, dummy,” you laughed, placing your fingers underneath his chin and guiding his gaze to the sky, “Up there.”

You took his finger and directed it to point at the brightest star in the heavens, “That’s its eye.”

You moved his hand slightly to the right to the next star in the constellation, leading him down the Sea King’s spine, to its fins, and finally its tail. 

“Get it?” 

“Not really.” He scratched his ear absentmindedly, painfully aware that you were still lightly grasping his other hand, “How the hell is that a Sea King?” 

“Let’s just say the ancient sailors had very imaginative minds.” You said with a chuckle.

You didn’t realize when, but somewhere during your conversation, you and Ace had moved closer together, as if drawn by an inescapable magnetic force. You could feel the heat emanating from the Flame-Flame Fruit user at every point of contact – your shoulder, down your arm, the side of your knee. 

The two of you fell into a lull, the silence comfortable. Unconsciously, you leaned further into his side, instinctively seeking that distinct warmth only he could provide. 

You found yourself looking at him out of the corner of your eye, studying his long eyelashes, and those freckles that rivaled the stars up above. 

All of a sudden, Ace turned his head toward you.

You instantly looked away, cheeks heating up at being caught staring.

He cleared his throat, “Shouldn’t you go back down there? Isn’t Marco waiting for you?”

“Marco?” You cocked your head in confusion, “He’s already gone back to his room – didn’t even bother to wait until midnight. Said something about his age catching up to him.” 

“You guys, um, looked pretty cozy earlier.” He stammered awkwardly, “Are you two a thing now?”

“Who?” You asked incredulously, pointing an index finger at yourself, “Me and Marco?” 

Ace averted his eyes from you, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Ace, what are you talking about? He’s my Division Commander and a good friend of mine–” 

“Just like I’m your "good friend"?” He asked, emphasizing the words with air quotes. 

A hundred thoughts raced through your mind, but the most prominent one was: “No, it’s different when it comes to you.” 

You wanted to shout it out to get it through his thick skull, but before you could even open your mouth, Ace quickly said, “Sorry.”

He chewed his bottom lip, taking a deep breath through his nose as he contemplated his next words.

“It’s just, I don’t see you as a friend.” He shook his head frantically, “Wait, no, I do – you’re my best friend.”

He sighed defeatedly, ”And at first, that was all you were – a friend. Someone who understands me more than anyone else. Someone who goes along with my stupid pranks, but will not hesitate to tell me off if I cross a line.”

“But lately,” his words trailed off as he leaned closer and closer to you, “It’s been so hard not to…”

Blinking rapidly as if awoken from a trance, he backed away, leaning the back of his head against the mast with his eyes shut. 

Your heart raced at the way his nose had brushed yours, there for a second and then gone. 

It was getting more difficult to breathe – you could hardly believe this was not a dream – as Ace rambled on and on.

“I don’t know when or how it happened… I just know that I no longer see you as just a friend, you know? You probably don’t feel the same way,” 

“Ace.” 

“And I’m probably ruining our friendship by saying all this, but I really need to get this off my chest. I can’t–, I feel like I’m gonna burst into flames if I don’t say something. And earlier, you were down there all chummy with Marco, and I–”

“Ace!”

He finally looked into your eyes, breathless, “What?”

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. 

When his lips landed on yours, it felt like coming home – the sensation novel, but somehow familiar all the same.

All of the mutual pent-up longing and desire was poured into that first meeting of your lips, gaining intensity as first became second, then third. 

The two of you did not even register the boom of the fireworks shooting off, signaling the turn of the year with bursts of red and green, gold and silver, against the dark canvas of the night sky. 

Ace’s strong hand went to the back of your head, startlingly gentle despite his heated kisses as he pulled you in even further, like he couldn’t possibly get close enough. 

Your hand traced his warm torso – committing all the crests and ridges to memory – before traversing upwards to tenderly caress his cheek. 

As you withdrew to take a much-needed breath, Ace’s lips followed yours, unwilling to part now that he had gotten a taste. He brushed sweet, tiny pecks upon your lips, then moved his attention to your cheek. 

His kisses charted a path to your ear, where he sighed out your name softly, “I don’t want to be just friends with you anymore.” 

“Me neither,” you chuckled, “Not for a long time now.”

Ace pulled back in surprise at your admission, grabbing your face in between his hands, “Wait – a long time? Since when? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“...Touché.”

Ace laughed as he admired your glowing, fireworks-lit face, leaning in to claim your lips once more.

You put your hand on his chest, "Wait!"

Ace’s brows furrowed, his head filled with worry that you had suddenly changed your mind about this whole... relationship thing with him.

His heart lightened, however, when you merely grinned and said, "I almost forgot. Happy birthday, Ace."

This time, you were the one who leaned in.

At breakfast the next day, a hungover Izou approached a well-rested Marco with crossed arms and raised eyebrows, relaying the news that he caught sight of you and Ace sneaking down the crow’s nest, hand-in-hand, at an ungodly hour that morning.

“What did you do?” 

Marco smirked and shrugged nonchalantly, raising his coffee mug to salute his fellow Division Commander, “I just showed the boy what he’d miss if he waited too long-yoi.”

a/n: happy new year everyone!! here's to an amazing year to come 🥂 (also, happy birthday ace <3)

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Is It Casual Now? || F2 bad ending!

type :: angst tw/cw :: hurt, hurt/comfort contains :: ollie, kimi, paul, arthur summary :: after getting rejected from the boys, despite them showing every sign of being madly in love with you, you two finally meet again. maybe you make up, maybe you don't. - inspo "casual" by chappel roan - PART 1 HERE

Ollie Bearman | 03

Almost two weeks went by without a sight of Ollie. You couldn't bring yourself to go outside, you felt so embarrassed from what you did. Every time you thought of it, you either cringed or cried, sometimes both. It was hard to not think of it, since everything reminded you of him.

Every clothing item you owned, Ollie has complimented you in it at least once. Every spot in your house had a specific memory attached to Ollie, like your bathroom where he straightened your hair or your kitchen cabinets where he reached for the plates that you couldn't reach. It was like you were stuck in hell, constantly forced to think of him and how you ruined everything between you both.

It drove you crazy, to the point you started to shut everyone else out. Not even your closest friends knew about what happened, you were too ashamed to admit what you did. You lied to everyone, saying you were just super sick and couldn't hangout with anyone. You weren't fully lying, you were sick from all the crying you did, but you also didn't have the energy to go outside and possibly risk crying in public.

Once again, you were crying in your room alone, doom-scrolling in hopes of finding a funny meme to cheer you up for a split second. But when you scrolled, you saw a random girl's post. Which was odd, you never got actual posts in your feed, and if you did it was normally an ad.

But it didn't seem like an ad, but instead a real post. She could 100% be a model: soft blonde hair, bright blue eyes, a cute smile, and an amazing body. You knew you shouldn't compare yourself to random people online, but it's hard not to when you've been rotting in your bed for a week over a boy who led you on for almost an entire fucking year.

As you swiped, seeing her amazing lifestyle on a yacht in the ocean, that when you saw him. Ollie. Ollie, who sat alongside a group of two other boys and girls. Ollie, who had his hand gently on the blonde girl's shoulders as he pulled her in closer for the photo. Ollie, who was smiling whilst you were sick in bed from how much you exhausted your body from crying.

You couldn't believe it. It was as if those months together meant absolutely nothing to him. As if you meeting his family meant nothing to him, all those late night drives meant nothing, all of those compliments and hugs meant nothing, you meant nothing to him.

Instantly, you bursted into tears yet again. Unable to handle the ache in your heart, the burn in your lungs as they struggled to gasp for air. You meant nothing to him. And yet he was everything to you.

You always saw Ollie as a nice guy, a guy who would at least text you and apologize for how he acted. As if he was one of the few men on this planet who actually cared for you. But the fact that he didn't even call you once, text you once, or even knock on your door spoke a thousand words to you.

What's even worse, is when you pressed on the girl's post to see who was tagged, you couldn't help but press on Ollie's account. Once you did, for some reason all of his stuff was gone. No story highlights, no posts, no followers or following. That's when you realized: he blocked you.

Fuck him.

Fast forward 5 months: you were much better now. You got over the cringy memory of kissing him and seeing him wipe his lips so harshly: you realized you weren't in the wrong.

It took ages for you to realize that, but thankfully you had the help of your closest friends to help you see your worth. They let you rant and ramble for hours on end, about how sweet Ollie was and how he shattered your heart in a million pieces when he left you. And every single friend agreed on one thing: he was an asshole.

After many days of your friends forcing you to get out of bed and do something, you felt so much better. Your group was able to lift you from the shit hole you dug yourself in, even coming together to clean your completely filthy room that you trashed with water bottles, paper plates, and disgusting used tissues. It warmed your heart, making you want to do better to make them proud.

And you made them so proud. Seeing you get your shine back was worth those days of having you cry on their shoulder. You were your old self but even better, with a new hairstyle and new closet. For once, you could finally be proud of yourself. Something you never realized was how self-conscious you were with Ollie.

When you were with him, you constantly craved his validation. Not only him, but his family and friends as well. You completely changed your aesthetic for him, following the aesthetic that you knew he liked more. But now that you were out, you could finally indulge in clothes you actually liked instead of worrying if he would like it.

Once again, you were out with you friends for lunch, a new pass time you loved to death. It was a usual day, filled with family updates, drama from their colleges, and thirsting over a few celebrities. As you laughed from your friends sharing their,,, questionable celebrity crushes, you saw them all go silent.

Your laughter faded too once you looked in their direction, seeing Ollie standing there alone. He was wearing his favorite grey hoodie, his comfort hoodie. His eye bags looked worse than usual, something he rarely ever got since he has a great skincare routine thanks to you. And for the first time in your life, he was wearing slides... Something he swore against wearing because he thought they were so ugly and unprofessional.

Although he broke you, you couldn't help but feel worried for him. Your head was screaming no, you knew if you went to him it would only end in more hurt. There is no such thing as a "closure conversation", it would just led to more questions or even worse, a second chance. But you didn't care, your body moved out of your chair as you went over to him.

Your friends didn't try to stop you, confident that you were stable enough to handle talking to him again. He was waiting for his order, far from the dining area. His head never left the floor, he didn't even notice when you stood right next to him. His head only raised once he saw your shoes, his eyes widening once he saw you.

His eyes darted all across you, as if he was robot scanning to see if you were real. The way his mouth slightly parted showed what he was thinking: he was breathless.

"(Y-Y/N)?" He said softly, stuttering your name as if it was Voldemort. Your heart, on it's own, skipped a beat. Excited to hear the way his voice said your name.

"Ollie," you said, finally being able to say his name without shaking. The way you both stared at each other was speaking so much more than you both able to say. "Are you alright...?"

You felt like an idiot for caring for him. He led you on for months and blocked you once he got a new girl, a new girl whom you compared yourself to in every way possible.

"Yeah." He said, yet his eyes did the opposite. Something you never thought you would ever see: his eyes welled up with tears. "I just..."

Instantly, you placed a hand on his back, coincidentally right on his heart. You could feel how fast it was beating, as if it was a drum going at a tempo of a 300 bpm. Empathy was something you could never run from, it was engraved into you. On your own, your hand rubbed his back while your hand hand pinched the collar of his hoodie to wipe his tears with it.

And through Ollie's tears, he couldn't help but stare at you. Staring at the woman he lost. Regret was all he could feel, he wanted to pour his heart out to you. The way he's never been the same since you left.

So much has happened since he left you. He got with the random blonde girl you saw on Instagram but she ended up cheating on him. He ran out of the skincare you bought him but he's been too exhausted to go outside to buy a new batch. He couldn't focus on his races or training at all, having massive muscle loss due to not eating properly. He couldn't even go home to his family, since they bombarded him with question about you and how they missed you.

What broke him the most was how his baby sister, the sweetest girl in the world, always asked when you come over again. How she complained about losing her future "sister-in-law". And he felt the same way, he missed you 10 times more than his sister could even fathom.

You both stood there awkwardly in the restaurant. Still wiping his tears which he was fighting back against. Luckily no one was looking, since you were both slightly tucked away from the public view. You stayed like this for a few minutes until Ollie broke the silence.

"I miss you." His voice shaky. As he looked down at you, his big brown eyes that you loved were just as shiny as they were the night you kissed him. His hand reached for your cheek, cupping them as he stared at you, cherishing you.

But you cut his time short, gently removing his hands off your face as you looked at him. You didn't have the heart to say it, although he deserved it and worse, but you just shook your head.

And instantly Ollie understood, retracting his hands and putting them into his hoodie pocket. His nodded, looking down once again as his tears fell onto the cold floor.

"I'm sorry,"

Kimi Antonelli | 04

The rest of the day was filled with anxiety and overthinking, while Kimi was having a usual day. He was completely unaware of your inner turmoil, unaware of how you were now looking at his advances with a new light. Nothing was the same anymore, you felt like you barely knew him now.

The way you two went to lunch like usual. He finished his packing and insisted on taking you to lunch for a goodbye. Sitting side by side instead of across from each other, like usual, because he insisted to stay close to you. How he always touched you in some way, whether his knee touching yours or his hand straight up holding yours for a few seconds, because he insisted he needed to feel you. How he complimented you and smiled, but you saw through him now; his "smile" has always been a smirk.

You finished eating together, unable to reply to him with full energy or concentration. He caught on, offering to drop you home early and cut the hangout short. You thanked whoever was above for giving you an easy way out. Getting into his car was awkward for the first time in ages. The last time you felt "awkward" in his car was when you were first ever becoming friends, you always found him cute so it was exciting to be with him. You wonder if he knew you were awkward back then, maybe that's why he kept you around: to play with your emotions.

Finally getting to your house, you shut the door and was unable to look back at him to wave goodbye like usual. He noticed, of course he did, but he didn't push it. Thankfully, he would be gone for least a week due to him needing to do some pre-season preparation for his car and suits.

The second you got home, your facade broke down. Tears streamed down your face before you were even able to process them. Your mind was racing with a million thoughts: were you just a game?, did you mean nothing to him the whole time?, was he just toying you for fun?, did he always knew you liked him?, and how the fuck did you not see through him for months on end?

You felt so stupid, as if "idiot" was plastered across your forehead. Months, weeks, hours spent together doing basically everything a girlfriend and boyfriend did: for nothing, All of those cheesy date nights where Kimi introduced you as his girlfriend as a "joke" was nothing. Seeing his family who welcomed you with open arms was just another night for Kimi. Even admitting your deepest insecurities, something you never let anyone know, and how softly he comforted you, was just a casual day.

Being led on is one of the worst feelings ever, and you never felt it until this point. The heart ache, realizing that you were just a bit of fun for him. Your eyes couldn't even process the room in front of you, completely washed out from your tears. Your legs shaking from how heavy you body suddenly felt. How could he do this? The sweet boy who gleefully volunteered to teach you Italian. Something so innocent turned into months of you falling in love.

Weeks passed with constant texts from Kimi. Always asking how you were, why you were ignoring him, and if you wanted to meet up. But he quickly got the hint that you were no longer interested in being friends. He tried to get answers from you, visiting your house but you weren't home: instead you were being comforted by your best friend for weeks while you cried your heart out.

He gave up on you, no longer bothering to text and call you. He stopped coming to your house, your parents never saw him again nor did your security cameras. Although he never came to your physically, he couldn't leave your mind mentally.

Thankfully, your best friend was able to snap you back into your true self. It took many weeks of crying and multiple boxes of tissues, but you survived the "grief" phase and moved on from every other stage. All stages by anger.

As the months passed, you saw him in F2 having a great season: and that enraged you. How could he be having such a great season while you were picking up the shattered pieces of yourself. How could there be possible rumors of him moving up to F1 to drive for Mercedes when he hasn't even apologized to you once. It was driving you crazy: motivating you to do better.

Although you couldn't beat his career achievements, they were insanely impressive, you found something even better. You realized you had an amazing friend alongside you the whole time, Jak Crawford. Your best friend was amazing help, but Jak was too.

He went from a casual friend to your new boyfriend, and you couldn't be more grateful. Everything you had with Kimi, you had with Jak: but even better. Date nights with Kimi were always a bit awkward, you blamed it on teen love. But with Jak, it felt so natural and open, he let you say the most insane things and would agree with you.

Jak was everything you could ask for and more. Flowers on every date, stupid jokes that made you cry from laughing, and his family was so welcoming to you as well. He showed you off to his friends, even getting you matching jewelry to make sure everyone knew you were "his", something Kimi would have never done despite how much he acted like it. Jak was real, and he truly was proud to have you as his girlfriend.

So when he asked to bring you to his next race in Spa, you were honored but scared of seeing Kimi again. But he insisted, saying it was the last before the summer break and he wanted to be able to show you off the media and introduce you to his best mates on the grid. So when he said that, how could you possibly say no.

Now you were in the garage, waiting to greet Jak after his race. He finished 3rd which was amazing! You couldn't be more proud of him. But he was busy with interviews and a post-race talk, so you'd be there for about an hour or two before he was free. So you sat down outside, watching the rest of the racers cool down while the engineers and mechanics worked like crazy.

But as you observed the scene, you didn't notice how Kimi came up behind you. When you saw him, you jumped, your eyes widening as you stared at him. You wanted to ask what he was doing here, but it would be much more appropriate for him to ask you that.

"(Y/N)," He said you name with a sweet tone, his eyes looking at you with a glossy overcoat. "Why are you here?"

From his body language and tone, you could tell he was assuming it was for him. But, it wasn't filled with malice or cockiness, but instead a sense of gratitude for you caring for him. Unlucky for him, you were actually here for your loving boyfriend.

"Here to watch the race," Yet for some reason, you felt nervous to say boyfriend. Scared, as if you were cheating on Kimi by getting with Jak. But you knew you two were never together, for crying out loud he said he would never date you.

"T-that's nice..." he said, as he looked to the side, suddenly feeling embarrassed about his 9th place finish. "So, did you have fun?"

"Yeah I did," You say awkwardly fiddling with your necklace that had a "J" on it. Kimi quickly noticed it, his eyes fixated on it as his eyebrows furrowed.

"Who's J?" He said, his tone slightly angry and hurt, he felt betrayed for some odd reason - but he knew deep down he had no right. He knew how he treated you was awful.

His was running wild, filled with so many thoughts. Worried if you saw how he messed up a few times during the race and if you laughed at him. Wondering if you saw his other races and how great he did for a rookie. Wondering if you heard the rumors of him possibly moving up to F1. But most importantly: he wanted- no, he needed to know, did you miss him?

But before he get the answer to any of those, he felt his heart get crushed. As Jak came behind you, wrapping his arm over your shoulder so easily. Kimi's eyes watched as your hand naturally came up to gently hold onto Jak's hand, as if you've been doing this for months already.

And that's when it hit him: J was for Jak...

Kimi's face was wiped clean of any emotion, left completely blank inside as his eyes darted between you two. He could finally get a taste of how you felt: the only difference was that you didn't lead him on for months on end.

"What are you guys talking about?" Jak asked, he knew your past with Kimi all too well. He was one of the very few people who calmed you down from your many panic attacks whenever you saw Kimi post or even got a memory of him.

You were unsure of what to say, although you felt 10 times more comfortable with Jak around you, you still felt awkward around Kimi. But you decided to end Kimi's misery of staring at you both.

"Nothing," you say casually. You gave Jak's hand two squeezes, a secret signal you both made to tell the other that you wanted to leave in uncomfortable situations.

"Good race, Kimi." Jak said, as he patted Kimi's back extra aggressively. As you both walked away, Kimi was still left speachless.

And for the first time in ages, you didn't care how he felt.

Paul Aron | 17

Avoiding Paul was basically impossible. Although being around him made you anxious, making your blood rush from your head to your toes and your heart freeze: you were teammates and had to stay together. Luckily, you were able to avoid him for only a week due to having different schedules for media and training.

But once again, you two were forced together: something you used to be grateful for. Now you dreaded it, memories rushing in your head of how you and him having the best time ever. His words from last week kept ringing in your head, driving you insane. "It's against our contract" he said, and yet you still smelled him on your pillows at night. Although you agreed to just be friend with benefits, you couldn't handle the idea of not being Paul's, and vice versa.

You were sick of the constant yearning, you knew this relationship was holding you back from finding a true partner that cherished you and showed you off. So, with the help of your best friend, you planned an entire script of how to break things off with Paul.

It was a harsh process, ripping your guts out to even think of it. You couldn't bare the thought of losing Paul. Even though there's a high chance that you two could just stay friends, you weren't sure you'd be able to do that since you loved him. Something you were too scared to say for ages. But you felt it deep inside of you all along, even before you two became friends with benefits.

The only reason you stayed as his fuck-partner for so long was in fear that you'd ruin your teamwork, but also because you were mortified that this would be all of Paul that you could get. You kept quiet for so long just to keep him beside you, even if you wanted more. Because in your mind, you were grateful for even a crumb of him.

As you and Paul were forced to film a quick video, you put on the facade that everything was okay. As if you didn't fight back tears in whilst doing your makeup because of how anxious you were. As if you didn't have snot run down your face as you cried to your best friend about how much you loved him, not caring that he only saw you for your body.

After the video finished, you walked towards your drivers room in a haste. Your driver room and Paul's room were directly next to each other, you wanted to avoid him as much as possible until you felt fully ready to break things off with him.

It was eating you alive, you couldn't even focus on the room around you. Your engineers and mechanics called your name, but you didn't bat an eye, unable to even decipher what they were saying. It was as if you were in a trance, unable to break free from the spell.

But as you walked into your drivers room, you let out a small sigh of relief. Being alone was much better, the pressure of people's eyes on you quickly left your head. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the your other senses, like touch and smell, in order to calm down.

But even that was impossible. Because the entire room smelled like Paul. The scent of his slightly woodsy and masculine cologne that mixed with his natural smell was a like a high for you. The entire room felt warm, as if he standing right behind you to give you a hug. And you were right.

"Hey," Paul says lowly, scaring you as your eyes jolted open "Why'd you run out of the video?"

From the way he was smirking, the way he was reaching out for your face and waist, and the way he was looking at you with low eyes: you knew exactly what he wanted from you. But you couldn't do it anymore.

Being with him was eating you alive. Constantly leaving you unsatisfied, yearning for more. But you couldn't get more, so you kept settling for the scraps of love and affection he could give you without the official title of his "girlfriend". It was so hard to describe how you felt and why you felt it.

It's hard to not give in to what he wants, when you love him so dearly that you'd give into anything he asked for. It's hard to not love him when you remember how tenderly he loved you and held you during tough times. But it's hard to want to stay with him when you knew deep down, this wasn't healthy.

You stepped backwards, barely escaping his reach. He looked at you with a puzzled look, instantly retracting his hands. But instead of being mad or upset like most men, he instantly looked concerned.

"I'm sorry, are you not in the mood?" He said cautiously, "is everything okay?"

No, nothing is okay, I love you and yet I can't have you although you're right in front of me - is what you wanted to say. You wanted to scream how you hated yourself for letting him use you and yet you wanted you sob in his arms about how much you miss him despite him standing right there.

But instead of saying any of those thoughts, your body reacted on it's own. Tears slipped out of your eyes, too overwhelmed from the emotions of everything. You hated it, you hated how your body was ruining the perfect script you made with your best friend. But you knew it was either now or never, so you broke the silence in the room.

"I can't do this anymore, Paul." You said softly, your throat closing up as you spoke. As if your own body was rejecting your brain. "I can't..." You said as you looked down at the floor, tears fully pouring out.

He reached to comfort you, understanding what you were implying. "I uh... I'm so sorry, of course we can stop." But you could tell he didn't understand the depths of what you meant by that.

"No Paul, not just "stop" but cut this all off completely." You said as you looked him in the eyes, "I love you."

His eyes widened, taking a step back. This was the complete opposite reaction you wanted, but you predicted this was a possibility. You sighed, already able to tell that he didn't feel the same towards you. He was left speechless and yet you were left wanting to say thousands of words to him, describing in detail of how you loved every single aspect of him and how it ruined you to settle just for friend with benefits, but you couldn't.

"I know you don't feel the same.. And that's why I need space.." You said, with lots of small pauses in between to allow your sniffles and small hick-ups to come out. "I can't take this anymore. It hurts, it hurts to see you and not have you. It hurts to know I'm nothing to you when you're everything to me."

Thank God it was summer break, meaning you didn't have to face him. It was the best thing you could wish for, since you knew being around him would just have you burst out into tears. But that didn't stop you from crying still, it was impossible not to considering how deeply you fell for Paul.

But your best friend and friend group wouldn't allow you to stoop so low, so they kept you constantly busy. They uplifted you in every way possible, always reminding you that you didn't need Paul and that he's dumb for not seeing you for you. But they still kept it civil enough since they knew he was stuck as your teammate for the rest of the reason, and possibly a year or two after the season ended.

You enjoyed your summer break in California, enjoying every single part of it. From San Francisco's city life, Santa Cruz's chill beaches, and San Jose's lavish malls. It was a dream for you to do this trip with all of your friends. It was also a great opportunity for you to glow up during this time by changing your hair, getting a bunch of new clothes, finally investing in some life changing stuff (like the expensive ass Dyson hair that you always wanted and the $400 facial that made your skin look brand new).

So when your vacation was coming to an end, you couldn't help but feel dread, a huge pit in your stomach that you kept filling with distractions only grew hungrier and hungrier. With only a week left of vacation, you were forced to say goodbye to your friends and California as you traveled to Italy for your race in Monza.

They called it a "four week summer break" but it was really just a three week break, considering you needed to lock-in one week prior to the actual grand prix to prepare for the race. It made you want to scream and hide in your bed forever, but your confidence has grown within those three weeks, you were decently prepared to face Paul.

But what you weren't prepared to face was someone else, someone you've never seen before in your entire life. Some random brunette girl, she was drop dead gorgeous. Although grid girls weren't a thing anymore, you were fully convinced she must be one considering her beauty and amazing body. You walked up to her, excited to see another woman in the paddock in F2 that wasn't an engineer or mechanic.

As you took steps towards her, someone beat you to it: Paul Aron. And as if luck suddenly turned his back against you, you watched as Paul's hand snuck around her waist. She looked towards him, her face instantly lighting up into a big smile as a soft giggle left her lips. And he copies her, giving her the same sweet smile that you knew so well.

And suddenly, that confidence was all gone. Your new hair didn't matter, new clothes weren't anything special, and that facial was for nothing. Because as you looked in front of you, you were hit with the hard truth: that you were just a body for him.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Those sweet reassurance he gave you when you felt insecure about your body, you weren't sure if he was being honest or just trying to get into your pants. The times you snuck out of practice or the paddock together, giggling from the fear of being caught, just to go get ice cream, maybe it was just him buttering you up so he could use you. When he would invite you to his DJing events and show you how to mix the audios together, placing his big hand on top of yours as he gently guided your fingers to lift and pull different levers and buttons, you assume it meant nothing to him at all.

The rest of the season went by in slow motion, as if it was torturing you with ever millisecond. Every single day felt like a chore for you, almost making you lose your love for racing entirely. After three more races in Baki, Lusail, and Yas Island, you were finally free. And this time, it wasn't a mere three weeks, but instead a full four month break.

A whole quarter of a year, and you planned to use the most of it. It took a while to regain your sanity and click back into reality. What better way to do that than to reconnect with friends in your hometown. It was just like those old cheesy rom-coms.

A busy girl heads back to her hometown to rest, and that's when she meets a sweet boy who's the exact thing she needs: calmness and stability. That's when you met your current partner, and he was all that you could imagine and more. He was basically perfect, besides from his annoying dad jokes, which you secretly loved.

He fulfilled you in every way possible, healing parts of you that you didn't even know about. His energy brought out your inner child, letting you be your true self without the mask of the media watching. He listened to everything you said, remembering every small detail you ever shared. For example, you said you used to love watching Disney as a kid, always loving the princesses - so he surprised you with tickets to Disneyland, even getting Fast Pass to ensure you got to do all of the rides you wanted.

Although your hometown was a medium-income area, he was rich due to his parents being in real estate. He was next in line to fufill the legacy, taking in tons of houses and apartments once he became of age. Which was perfect for you, the complete opposite of Formula 2. The climb to Formula 1 was always uncertain for many, only the very top percent of people were able to make it up there. So knowing that if one day Formula failed, you'd have him to fall back on.

It was as if God saw what happened between you and Paul and felt pity for you, sending him as a apology. And you accepted it, 100%.

So when the 2025 season started and you were yet again forced to be teammates with Paul, you weren't as scared or anxious as you were in 2024. Instead, you were neutral, completely over the drama since your boyfriend was able to calm you down and ground you in reality. You always thought that instead of real estate that your boyfriend should go into psychiatry, since he always knew how to help you improve yourself.

As you stepped into the paddock, saying hello to all of your engineers and mechanics for the first time in ages, you were so happy. You rediscovered your love for Formula, feeling the spark to win more than ever. It felt like home once again, the one thing you loved more than anything.

While you were chatting with your mechanics, catching up on how their winter break went, you saw Paul step in. And yet, you felt fine. Your heart didn't drop to your stomach like it did for days on end during 2024. Your eyes didn't fight back tears by batting your eyelashes a million times. Your blood felt still, your brain felt stable, and your lungs weren't crushed by a thousand bricks: you were fine around him now.

As the mechanics left, leaving you alone with Paul - you felt nothing. You felt completely neutral around him. Although he hurt you badly, ruining you for multiple months, you didn't have the guts to hate him. Because at one point in your life, he was your everything, and you realized it wasn't his fault if he didn't feel the same. Of course, how he used you and led you on was cruel, but you blamed it on the fact that you were both young and dumb. You had forgiven him, already moved on to the new chapter starting in your life.

When you and Paul were friends, you'd be chatting for hours on end about stupid topics. But now, the room was silent. For you, it was comfortable silence. But for Paul, he was shifting in his seat, bouncing his leg and biting his lip. He was looking at you, waiting for you to look back at him and say hello - but you were busy watching the clouds pass and the other teams' mechanics work on their car. Paul cleared his throat, able to tell that you wouldn't be speaking to him unless provoked.

"(Y/N)." He said, his voice sounded hoarse for some reason. When you turned to face him, you suddenly understood why - he was crying.

Instantly, you panicked, feeling as if you did something wrong. You shifted, facing him entirely as you fought the urge to wipe his tears. "Are you okay?" You asked, concerned.

He shook his head, biting his lip even harder as he rested his head in-between his hands as he began to sob. You reached besides you, grabbing tissues from a randomly convenient tissue box. Handing it to him, he used it to wipe his tears. His body was faced towards you and his head was faced away, he was hiding his red tear stained face from you.

"I..." He said slowly, gaining the courage to tour towards you and look at you. His poor posture and shaking shoulders made him look weak as he looked up at your eyes. "I'm so sorry... for everything, for being such a dick."

Unable to handle seeing him in such a fragile state, you cracked. "It's okay," You say gently, trying to ease his mind from the guilt, despite him deserving it for the Hell he put you through.

"No, no it's not okay. I was such a dick. A-And I was just, lying to everyone the whole time." He said, before he began to quickly ramble whilst slurring his words "I thought I didn't need you, that I didn't love you. So I let you go, got with some random chick, and then I realized that she wasn't what I wanted.. She was so far from it... I wanted you, I needed you. I wanted to tell you for ages but I couldn't since I felt so stupid and dumb. And then I heard you moved on, and now, now I'm-" His voice cracked, his sudden word-vomit coming to a halt as he softly said, "I'm sorry."

You could tell that it was weighing on him heavily. His obvious inner turmoil was making you emotional, finally getting the closure that you secretly needed to validate yourself. But you knew that he needed his closure too. It was going to hurt him, but you knew it needed to be done.

"I'm sorry, Paul." You said softly, grabbing another tissue as you gingerly wiped his tears away. It was as if he melted into your touch, his face gravitated towards your hand on his own. "I'm glad you see what you did wrong, but I hope you know that I'm happy now."

Arthur Leclerc | 65

After that boat ride, you and Arthur didn't see each other for a very long time. You wanted to see him, but you could tell that it would be extremely awkward if you did. He left you completely in the dark for a while, until he sent you a text. When you got his text after 3 days of no contact, you were so excited. You were crossing your fingers, hoping that maybe he'd be okay with actually dating - even though you knew this outcome was extremely unlikely.

And you were right, that outcome was basically impossible. Arthur texted you, simply stating: "I think the joke has gone on for too long, it's best if we end this fake-dating. I'm sorry (Y/N), you're great but I don't feel the same way."

He barely typed anything at all, which hurt even more. The fact that you weren't even worth a paragraph or just a few more sentences spoke thousands of words to you. You could tell that he didn't value you, that you were just a bit of fun for him to have whilst getting the convince of not dealing with all of those fangirls.

It was rough at first, but you managed to pull through. You went through all the stages of grief required to move on, from crying, screaming, begging God for a different outcome: only to be constantly met with the same ending, nothing changing.

To rub salt into the wound, fans were going crazy over your "break up". To the fans, it was as if they were watching their mom and dad divorce. They screamed and cried all over social media, making multiple sad edits. They even tried to pry into the reason for the break up, some going as far to spam you with DMs and emails, begging for an interview or at least some closure.

You denied all of these, of course, deciding that Arthur should be the one in charge of this PR disaster since he's the one that wanted the break up anyways. He settled on the fact that you two just didn't work out since you were busy with school and he was busy with racing. You scoffed at his answer, but understood it was the easiest way to let the fans and media die down.

The drama did die down, but he ruined it. Arthur got drunk at a party, celebrating his brother's excellent race week. Getting drunk wasn't the bad part, the bad part was when Arthur was filmed by his friends drunkenly saying that he never needed you and that you just "kept the hoes away". His friend group smirked and laughed.

But the media wasn't happy at all. The story went from a simple break up to a complete dumpster fire overnight. Fans were no longer begging for answers on the break up, instead they were sending you comforts and reassurance that you were lovely. Even photographers and journalists came out to support you, sharing how you were such a sweetheart to be around.

Somehow, the drama worsened even more as some mechanics and engineers got inspired by the Arthur hate train, as they began to come out with their own stories with Arthur. They shared how Arthur was sometimes difficult, using his status as Charles little brother over others. They even shared how they would notice Arthur neglect you at times in order to do his own tasks, despite the fact that you would drop everything you were doing just to serve him.

The entirety of Formula turned against him in a snap, he was now seen as the ungrateful brother and rude boyfriend. You'd be lying if you said you weren't a little happy that his karma got served to him.

Luckily, you were smart and was able to make a profit off of this whole drama. Many brands each out to you to become their sponsor, offering you modeling gigs and the opportunity to film commercials. You took all of those, even beginning to share your own vlogs. The media loved your personality and how down to earth you were. Not only that, but you were extremely funny and witty, making them love you even more.

You were no longer known as Arthur's girlfriend, but instead as you. Which was amazing, meaning you'd never need to think of him much again.

That is, until he decided to do something so stupid. So so stupid, even stupider than you asking what you were with him. He flew to your country, knocked on your door, and waited outside for hours on end. You looked through your security camera, completely in denial that he was actually outside.

But he was. It was Arthur. He was holding a huge bouquet of flowers, you could even see small white boxed in the bouquet. They were definitely filled with expensive jewelry of some kind. He was also dragging a small wagon with him, which held even more gifts. Things ranging from adorable stuffed animals, your favorite chocolates, and every expensive thing you've ever wanted but never felt worthy enough to purchase.

You ignored him, not wanting to see him after how he led you on. You were doing so much better without him, you literally flourished the second he left your life. But he didn't care, he waited outside for hours on end. Even when it reached 11pm, he didn't care. Instead, he hopped into his car, and fell asleep.

By the time you woke up, he was waiting by your door yet again. He wasn't allowing you out of the house without hearing him out first. His stubbornness and your need to go to the grocery store finally made you step outside.

And as you opened the door, it was as if he just saw God himself. The way his eyes lit up, his lips slightly parting, and his hands instead pushing him off the ground to stand on his feet. He was in awe to see you, as if you weren't real.

"(Y/N)," He said breathless, hearing your name in his voice was so odd yet comforting. "Finally," He said with a small smirk to lighten the mood.

"What do you want?" You said, annoyed as you leaned against your door frame.

"You."

"Pfft!" You said in his face, shocked at how quickly he changed.

How he went from looking at you down in disgust as you admitted you loved him - to now being messy and dirty from sitting on your porch for almost 18 hours. It was insane to you that he could ever think that you'd want him back, especially with how happy you were now.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

AI art has no anti-cooption immune system

TONIGHT (July 20), I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.

One thing Myspace had going for it: it was exuberantly ugly. The decision to let users with no design training loose on a highly customizable user-interface led to a proliferation of Myspace pages that vibrated with personality.

The ugliness of Myspace wasn't just exciting in a kind of outsider/folk-art way (though it was that). Myspace's ugliness was an anti-cooption force-field, because corporate designers and art-directors would, by and large, rather break their fingers and gouge out their eyes than produce pages that looked like that.

In this regard, Myspace was the heir to successive generations of "design democratization" that gave amateur communities, especially countercultural ones, a space to operate in where authentic community members could be easily distinguished between parasitic commercializers.

The immediate predecessors to Myspace's ugliness-as-a-feature were the web, and desktop publishing. Between the img tag, imagemaps, the blink tag, animated GIFs, and the million ways that you could weird a page with tables and padding, the early web was positively bursting with individual personality. The early web balanced in an equilibrium between the plunder-friendliness of "view source" and the topsy-turvy design imperatives of web-based layout, which confounded both print designers (no fixed fonts! RGB colorspaces! dithering!) and even multimedia designers who'd cut their teeth on Hypercard and CD ROMs (no fixed layout!).

Before the web came desktop publishing, the million tractor-feed ransom notes combining Broderbund Print Shop fonts, joystick-edited pixel-art, and a cohort of enthusiasts ranging from punk zinesters to community newsletter publishers. As this work proliferated on coffee-shop counters and telephone poles, it was visibly, obviously distinct from the work produced by "real" designers – that is, designers who'd been a) trained and b) paid by a corporation to employ that training.

All of this matters, and not just for aesthetic reasons. Communities – especially countercultural ones – are where our society's creative ferment starts. Getting your start in the trenches of the counterculture wars is no proof against being co-opted later (indeed, many of the designers who cut their teeth desktop publishing weird zines went on to pull their hair and roll their eyes at the incredible fuggliness of the web). But without that zone of noncommercial, antiestablishment, communitarian low weirdness, design and culture would stagnate.

I started thinking about this 25 years ago, the first time I met William Gibson. I'd been assigned by the Globe and Mail to interview him for the launch of All Tomorrow's Parties:

https://craphound.com/nonfic/transcript.html

One of the questions I asked was about his famous aphorism, "The street finds its own use for things." Given how quickly each post-punk tendency had been absorbed by commercial culture, couldn't we say that "Madison Avenue finds its own use for the street"? His answer started me down a quarter-century of thinking and writing about this subject:

I worry about what we'll do in the future, [about the instantaneous co-opting of pop culture]. Where is our new stuff going to come from? What we're doing pop culturally is like burning the rain forest. The biodiversity of pop culture is really, really in danger. I didn't see it coming until a few years ago, but looking back it's very apparent.

I watch a sort of primitive form of the recommodification machine around my friends and myself in sixties, and it took about two years for this clumsy mechanism to get and try to sell us The Monkees.

In 1977, it took about eight months for a slightly faster more refined mechanism to put punk in the window of Holt Renfrew. It's gotten faster ever since. The scene in Seattle that Nirvana came from: as soon as it had a label, it was on the runways of Paris.

Ugliness, transgressiveness and shock all represent an incoherent, grasping attempt to keep the world out of your demimonde – not just normies and squares, but also and especially enthusiastic marketers who want to figure out how to sell stuff to you, and use you to sell stuff to normies and squares.

I think this is what drove a lot of people to 4chan (remember, before 4chan was famous for incubating neofascism, it was the birthplace of Anonymous): its shock culture, combined with a strong cultural norm of anonymity, made for a difficult-to-digest, thoroughly spiky morsel that resisted recommodification (for a while).

All of this brings me to AI art (or AI "art"). In his essay on the "eerieness" of AI art, Henry Farrell quotes Mark Fisher's "The Weird and the Eerie":

https://www.programmablemutter.com/p/large-language-models-are-uncanny

"Eeriness" here is defined as "when there is something present where there should be nothing, or is there is nothing present when there should be something." AI is eerie because it produces the seeming of intent, without any intender:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/13/spooky-action-at-a-close-up/#invisible-hand

When we contemplate "authentic" countercultural work – ransom-note DTP, the weird old web, seizure-inducing Myspace GIFs – it is arresting because the personality of the human entity responsible for it shines through. We might be able to recognize where that person ganked their source-viewed HTML or pixel-optimized GIF, but we can also make inferences about the emotional meaning of those choices. To see that work is to connect to a mind. That mind might not necessarily belong to someone you want to be friends with or ever meet in person, but it is unmistakably another person, and you can't help but learn something about yourself from the way that their work makes you feel.

This is why corporate work is so often called "soulless." The point of corporate art is to dress the artificial person of the corporation in the stolen skins of the humans it uses as its substrate. Corporations are potentially immortal, artificial colony organisms. They maintain the pretense of personality, but they have no mind, only action that is the crescendo of an orchestra of improvised instruments played by hundreds or thousands of employees and a handful of executives who are often working directly against one another:

https://locusmag.com/2022/03/cory-doctorow-vertically-challenged/

The corporation is – as Charlie Stross has it – the "slow AI" that is slowly converting our planet to the long-prophesied grey goo (or, more prosaically, wildfire ashes and boiled oceans). The real thing that is signified by CEOs' professed fears of runaway AI is runaway corporations. As Ted Chiang says, the experience of being nominally in charge of a corporation that refuses to do what you tell it to is the kind of thing that will give you nightmares about autonomous AI turning on its masters:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/09/autocomplete-worshippers/#the-real-ai-was-the-corporations-that-we-fought-along-the-way

The job of corporate designers is to find the signifiers of authenticity and dress up the corporate entity's robotic imperatives in this stolen flesh. Everything about AI is done in service to this goal: the chatbots that replace customer service reps are meant to both perfectly mimic a real, competent corporate representative while also hewing perfectly to corporate policy, without ever betraying the real human frailties that none of us can escape.

In the same way, the shillbots that pretend to be corporate superfans online are supposed to perfectly amplify the corporate message, the slow AI's conception of its own virtues, without injecting their own off-script, potentially cringey enthusiasms.

The Hollywood writers' strike was, at root, about the studio execs' dream that they could convert the "insights" of focus groups and audience research into a perfect script, without having to go through a phalanx of lippy screenwriters who insisted on explaining why they think your idea is stupid. "Hey, nerd, make me another ET, except make the hero a dog, and set it on Mars" is exactly how you prompt an AI:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/20/everything-made-by-an-ai-is-in-the-public-domain/

Corporate design's job is to produce the seeming of intention without any intender. The "personality" we're meant to sense when we encounter corporate design isn't the designer's, nor the art director's, nor even the CEO's. The "personality" is meant to be the slow AI's, but a corporation doesn't have a personality.

In his 2018 short story "Noon in the antilibrary," Karl Schroeder describes an "antilibrary" as an endlessly deep anaerobic lagoon of generative botshit:

https://www.technologyreview.com/2018/08/18/104097/noon-in-the-antilibrary/

The antilibrary is a generative AI system that can produce entire librarys’-worth of fake books with fake authors, fake citations by other fake experts with their own fake books and biographies and fake social media accounts, on-demand and instantly. It was speculation in 2018; it’s possible now. Creating an antilibrary is just a matter of investing in a sufficient number of graphics cards and electricity.

https://kschroeder.substack.com/p/after-the-internet

Reading Karl's reflections on the antilibrary crystallized something for me that I've been thinking about for a quarter-century, since I interviewed Gibson at the Penguin offices in north Toronto. It snapped something into place that I've trying to fit since encountering Henry's thoughts on the "eeriness" of AI work and the intent without an intender.

It made me realize why I dislike AI art so much, on a deep, aesthetic level. The point of an image generator is to buffer the intention of the prompter (which might be genuinely creative and bursting with personality) in layers of automated decision-making that flense the final product of any hint of the mind that caused its creation.

The most febrile, deeply weird and authentic prompts of the most excluded outsiders produce images that feel the same as the corporate AI illustrations that project the illusion of personality from the immortal, transhuman colony organism that is the limited liability corporation.

AI art is born coopted. Even the 4chan equivalent of AI – the deeply transgressive and immoral nonconsensual pornography – feels no different from the "official" AI porn churned out by "real" pornographers. "Shrimp Jesus" and other SEO-optimized Facebook slop is so uncanny because it is simultaneously "weird" ("that which does not belong") and yet it belongs in the same aesthetic bucket of the most anodyne Corporate Memphis ephemera:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Corporate_Memphis

We call it "generative" but AI art can't generate the kind of turnover that aerates the aesthetic soil. An artform that can't be transgressive is sterile, stillborn, a dead end.

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/20/ransom-note-force-field/#antilibraries

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

--

Jake (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:1970s_fanzines_(21224199545).jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

[twstgarden]

❀ ❝ 𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲, 𝗯𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗯𝗼𝘆 ❞

━ malleus draconia x gn! reader (reader can be yuu or an oc/twstsona)

━ it's malleus' birthday! time to wake him up and spoil him with birthday greetings and kisses!

this work does not contain spoilers for chapter 7, diasomnia’s arc.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

ko-fi here if you want to support me, commissions are open

"hey! don't disturb his highness!"

the screeching sound of sebek's voice rang through malleus' ears as he groaned softly, stirring around his bed before hearing his bedroom door burst open.

before he could get up and assess the situation, a pair of arms wrapped around him, letting out a soft 'oof' in surprise before turning his head to find you burying your face on his back.

"happy birthday!!!"

a soft laugh escaped his lips, sitting up as he properly made you embrace him, "you dare disturb my slumber, dearest?"

he was only messing around. you knew he had been awake the moment sebek yelled at you, so in response, you snuggled closer. "you know you can't be mad at me~" you cooed, rubbing your cheek against his.

pulling away, you took a better look at him. his sleepwear was certainly elegant, and his bed hair did not make him look unpleasant - it was the opposite. what caught your attention were the forehead scales, a feature that hints at his draconic lineage, all in display for you to see.

you smiled unconsciously, cupping his cheeks as you eyed the scales. he, however, felt a little self-conscious, as he thought you found it hideous. to cover it up, he fixed his hair and used his magic to comb it in place.

you pouted.

"why did you hide it?"

"it's not worth looking."

your pout turned into a frown, "do you think i find you hideous?"

he did not respond, surprised to see you genuinely downcast over his decision to cover the scales. "...it's not like that, my dear," spoke malleus before sighing with a soft laugh, bringing up his bangs, "you're an odd one."

you smiled once again, laughing softly as you got on your knees to reach his head better. "it's so beautiful... especially on you," you replied as you cupped his cheeks, "you look so majestic, mallie, like a true king."

the heat rose to his cheeks as it tinted a slight pink. no matter how long you've been together, he can never get used to your sudden compliments. noticing his blush, you giggled and kissed him all over his face, "happy happy birthday, my love!"

his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as you continue your acts of affection. light laughs left his lips as you showered him with kisses, tickling him in the process before hugging him tight.

"happy birthday, mallie~"

that was your third greeting. you were starting to sound like a broken record, at least to you, but to malleus, it meant the world to him. he wasn't one to be excited for his birthday despite having it as a national holiday in his nation, but having you be excited for it every year made him look forward to it just as much as you did.

'it's a way to celebrate another year! no matter how long or short your life is, don't you think it's worth celebrating?'

that was what you told him in your first year together, and since then, he has taken your words to heart. it's another way for him to celebrate another year he gets to spend with you.

"a million thanks, my love," spoke malleus in a soft whisper before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, "let's go have breakfast, shall we?"

© twstgarden 2025 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.

[cosmiclily]

.ᐟchapter seven: what’s the rush? kissing, then my cheeks are so flush

wc: 2.2k

you

are you home? can we please talk?

vi ♥️

be home in 10

On my way home from the coffee shop, I tried to put my thoughts in order, rehearsing how I would explain to Vi why I’d been such an asshole to her lately and why I’d been avoiding her. It felt impossible to string together a coherent explanation that didn’t involve blurting out the whole messy truth.

Because that truth? It went something like this: "So, I have feelings for you. And you're the most amazing, beautiful, kind, loving human being in the world. And I’ve been too scared that if I told you I love you, you’d hate me forever. Because, let’s be honest, you’re incredible, and I wouldn’t deserve you in a million years."

Yeah, that wasn’t happening. As much as I wanted to say it, as much as the words were clawing at my throat to be let out, I knew better. The stakes were too high, and I wasn’t willing to lose her completely if things didn’t go the way I hoped.

I exhaled sharply, trying to push away the familiar ache in my chest. I just needed to focus on fixing things. I needed to make her understand that I cared about her—even if I couldn’t say exactly how much—and that I didn’t want to keep hurting her.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter what I said, Vi would be pissed at me. I’d earned that much. It would probably take time—maybe a long time—for me to gain her trust back. But as long as I could get through this conversation still being her friend, I’d count it as a win.

I glanced up at the darkening sky as I approached the apartment building. A part of me wanted to turn around and run—find some excuse to delay this conversation for another day. But I knew I couldn’t keep running. Jinx was right. Things were spiraling, and if I didn’t face this now, I was going to lose Vi anyway.

When I finally reached our floor, I hesitated in front of the door, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of my chest. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath to steady myself before stepping inside.

The apartment was quiet, and for a moment, I thought Vi wasn’t home yet. But then I saw her, sitting on the couch with her legs tucked underneath her, scrolling aimlessly on her phone. Her expression was neutral, but there was a tension in her posture that hadn’t been there before.

She glanced up when she heard me, her eyes meeting mine. And just like that, the words I’d rehearsed a hundred times on the way home evaporated from my brain.

"Hey," she said, her tone guarded.

"Hey," I replied, my voice unsteady. I stood there awkwardly, clutching the strap of my bag like it might anchor me to the ground.

Vi raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for me to say something more.

“I... we need to talk,” I finally managed, my throat dry.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she nodded and set her phone down. “Yeah, we do.”

The weight of the moment pressed down on me as I moved to sit across from her. This was it. No more excuses, no more hiding. It was time to finally lay my cards on the table—even if it wasn’t all of them.

“I—” I started, but my voice caught in my throat. I took a deep breath, willing myself to calm down, even as my heart raced uncontrollably. My head was spinning, and I couldn’t seem to find the right words. “I wanted to start off with... I’m sorry. It’s not your fault that I’ve been distant lately. I wanted to make that clear. You did nothing wrong.”

My voice wavered as I forced myself to look into her eyes. It was terrifying, but I knew I had to face her. I braced myself for anger, disappointment—anything that could mirror the chaos inside me. But what I saw was so much worse: hurt. It was written all over her face, raw and unguarded, and it made my stomach twist painfully.

“Then why?” she asked, her voice quiet but laced with pain. “What happened for you to treat me like that?” Her words were like a dagger, each syllable cutting deeper than the last. She wasn’t yelling or angry; it was like it physically hurt her to say them.

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her gaze on me. “I—I didn’t mean to hurt you, Vi,” I said, my voice cracking. “I thought... I thought distancing myself would help. I thought it would make things easier. But I was wrong. I was so wrong.”

“Help with what?” she asked, her brow furrowing. There was frustration creeping into her tone now, but it was overshadowed by the lingering hurt. “You don’t just push someone away for no reason. I don’t understand, and I’m trying so hard to, but you’re not giving me anything.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words got caught again. How could I explain this without ruining everything? Without shattering the delicate balance of our friendship? But then I remembered what Jinx had said—about how we were already falling apart—and I knew I couldn’t keep avoiding the truth.

“It’s because of me,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s because of the way I feel about you.”

Her eyes widened slightly, confusion flickering across her face. “The way you feel about me?” she repeated, like she needed to hear it again to make sense of it.

I nodded, gripping the edge of my seat so hard my knuckles turned white. “I... I’m in love with you, Vi,” I said, the words spilling out like a dam breaking. “I’ve been in love with you, I think, my whole life. From the moment you walked into Vander’s house that first day with your uneven bowl cut and those blue eyes. I didn’t understand what I was feeling—and honestly, I still don’t,” I let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow. “But I knew, even then, that you were it. You were everything. And when I finally understood that those feelings were love, I got scared. Scared that if I told you, it would ruin everything. Scared that you’d hate me, or that you’d feel like I wasn’t enough, like I couldn’t ever be enough.”

Her expression softened, her shoulders relaxed slightly, but she didn’t say anything. The silence felt like it stretched for an eternity, deafening in its weight. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might shatter my ribs, and I could feel the heat of tears threatening to spill over.

“I tried to push you away,” I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. “Because I thought it would be easier. I thought I could bury how I felt, and we could just go back to how we were. But I was wrong. I know you don’t feel the same way, and I’m not asking you to. I just—” My voice cracked, but I forced myself to keep going. “I just want to go back to being your friend. I hate what I’ve done, how I’ve hurt you, and I hate myself for—"

And then it happened.

I was cut off mid-sentence as her lips pressed against mine. For a moment, I froze, my mind blank and my body completely still. What was happening? My brain struggled to catch up, replaying the last few seconds on a loop as if trying to convince me that it was real.

Her hands came up to cup my face gently, her thumbs brushing against my cheeks, grounding me in the moment. The kiss wasn’t rushed or forceful—it was soft, tentative, like she was giving me the space to decide if I wanted to pull away. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

When I finally remembered how to move, I kissed her back. Tentatively at first, like I was afraid the moment might shatter if I leaned in too much. But then her fingers threaded through my hair, pulling me closer, and everything else—my doubts, my fears, the pain of the past few weeks—faded into nothing. All that mattered was her, the feel of her lips on mine, the warmth of her touch, the way she made me feel like I wasn’t just enough, but everything.

When she finally pulled back, I was breathless, my heart racing so fast it felt like it might burst. Her forehead rested gently against mine, and she let out a shaky laugh. “You really are an idiot,” she said, her voice soft but filled with something I couldn’t quite place.

I blinked, still reeling. “What?”

“I’ve been in love with you, too,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “Probably just as long as you’ve been in love with me. But I didn’t know how to say it. I thought... I thought you didn’t see me that way. So I kept it to myself and convinced myself it was better that way.”

“Vi...” I whispered, barely able to believe what I was hearing.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” she continued, her voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t mean to. I just... I didn’t want to ruin what we had.”

I let out a shaky laugh, tears finally spilling over as I pulled her into a tight embrace. “We’re both idiots,” I said, my voice muffled against her shoulder. “But maybe we can stop being idiots now. Maybe we can just... figure it out together.”

She nodded, her arms tightening around me. “Yeah,” she said softly. “Together.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight on my chest lifted. It wasn’t perfect, and I knew we’d have to figure out how to navigate this new, uncharted territory. But in that moment, none of that mattered. All that mattered was her, and the knowledge that I wasn’t alone in this anymore.

As we sat there, holding each other like the world outside didn’t exist, I felt a warmth spread through me that I hadn’t felt in what felt like years. It was strange how something as simple as the truth could be both terrifying and liberating. For so long, I’d been convinced that my love for Vi would only ever live in the shadows, something to bury and ignore. And now, here she was, holding me like I was something precious. Like she had been waiting for this moment as much as I had.

She pulled back just enough to look at me, her hands still resting gently on my cheeks. “You really had me worried, you know?” she said, her voice softer now, her usual tough edge smoothed out. “When you started avoiding me, I thought I’d done something wrong. I thought I’d lost you.”

I shook my head quickly, my hands gripping hers like they were a lifeline. “You didn’t lose me, Vi. You could never lose me. I was just... scared. Of everything. Of you finding out and hating me, of ruining what we had. But I was stupid, and I hurt you in the process.”

“You were stupid,” she said with a small laugh, her lips curving into that familiar smirk that made my heart flutter. “But I guess I can forgive you. Just this once.”

I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at my lips anyway. “You’re so generous.”

She grinned, then her expression softened again, her gaze turning serious. “But seriously, no more of this avoiding each other bullshit. If something’s wrong, we talk about it. Pinky promise?” She said showing me her pinky

I nodded, my throat tightening. “Pinky promise.”

Her fingers brushed against my cheek, and I leaned into her touch instinctively, like I’d been doing it my whole life. “Good,” she said softly, her thumb tracing small circles on my skin. “Because I don’t want to waste any more time, you know? We’ve spent so long dancing around this, pretending it wasn’t there, but... I’m done pretending.”

“Me too,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “No more pretending.”

She smiled then, a real, genuine smile that made her eyes light up in that way I loved. And before I could say anything else, she leaned in and kissed me again. This time, it felt different—less hesitant, more certain. Like we’d both finally decided to stop running from the inevitable.

When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathless, and I couldn’t help but laugh softly. “So, what now?” I asked, my voice light but genuine. “What happens next?”

Vi leaned back against the couch, pulling me with her so I was tucked against her side. “Well,” she said, her arm draped casually around my shoulders, “I think we figure it out as we go. No pressure, no rush. Just... us.”

“Us,” I repeated, the word feeling strange but wonderful on my tongue. “I like the sound of that.”

“Good,” she said with a grin, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Because I’m not letting you get away now.”

We stayed like that for a long time, just holding each other and talking about everything and nothing all at once. For the first time in weeks—no, months—I felt like I could finally breathe. The weight of my unspoken feelings was gone, replaced by something warm and hopeful and new.

And as I drifted off to sleep that night, curled up next to Vi on the couch, I couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, everything was finally going to be okay.

──────────────────────

chapters - chapter six

notes: finally!!!! i love me some “we have been in love with each other the whole times and we’re both too dumb to realize”

it’s been a journey with this fic for me, bc it’s the first time i had the courage to post anything that i wrote, thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed it !!!!

[zelmyna-dragonheart]

I don't normally scream about other people's rottmnt au on here, but @somerandomdudelmao 's Cass Apocalypse Au is driving me up the wall, and I have words!!

Everyone who is reading the series knows it is currently in the process of Casey Jr. resurrecting his uncle/dad's.

Theory Time!

First off, let's go into why Casey can do this.

Yes, Cass has confirmed that the memory spell that was used was mixed with a time travel one. Thus, using one's memory's as a gateway to not only traverse time but dimensions.

However, Casey Jr. is able to see spirits when he does this but also remains physically in the present - which leads me to think that he is being astroprojected across time and space as a literal spirit. Hence why he can visit his memories and the past without altering the events on a physical level. As a spirit, Casey Jr. can see and engage with other spirits in existence at that time.

In the powers of spirit to spirit interaction, he is the only person alive who can literally pull other spirits through dimensions. With his body anchored in one time branch and his memories anchored in the other one, Casey Jr. Is the literal bridge for spirits to cross from one to the other.

No matter the condition of the spirit.

Theory #2

Cass has shown us F.Mikey communing with his ancestors when Donnie originally pasted on. It also was largely suspected the krangg could destroy ninpo and spirits.

With the Hamatos, spirits and ninpo are consister linked if not one. So, of course, when Casey Jr. travels back to his past in his time branch and is able to intact and unintentionally pull Donnie's disintegrating spirit into and out of time with him; Casey Jr. effectively saved Donnie's ninpo. Immediately after his recuse, Donnie admits that his NINPO is in shambles and that he is doing everything in his power to hold it together.

With this confirmation in mind, let's have a look at the conditions surrounding the other turtles' ninpos and spirits.

First off, Raph

Raph's spirit and ninpo were perfectly healed and intact with in the robot body Donnie created for him. The only thing is that Raph's 'body' could be turned activated or shut down. Like a Fullmetal Alchemist parallel, Raph's soul, spirit, and ninpo are housed within a metal container. In episode two or three, when Casey Jr. found the robot, Raph was reactivated after an emergency shutdown that lasted YEARS.

His ninpo and spirit woke up. Know that, shutting himself down again to allow his generator to be redirected as a power source would not kill Raph but rather put him to sleep. He would never die but remain suspended for all time, trapped in his metal shell until someone reactivated him.

This made Raph not only be the easiest but most accessible spirit for Casey Jr. to rescue. Raphs' spirit would have remained there, in perfect condition, for however long it took for Casey to get to him.

Now, let's look at Mikey.

This old mystic warrior was the most in tune and most powerfully adept with his abilities. Drained he may have been, Mikey said that opening a time gateway would use whatever he had left. His mystic powers and ninpo are linked. Opening the time gateway was a strain on his spirit, his ninpo. He was literally splintering apart as he opened the portal. In Mikey’s moment of death, he pushed the last of his ninpo in the portal. His ninpo burst like a firework.

At this point of this written theory, Mikey's has not been rescued.

This leads me to speculate the condition and difficulty of said rescue for one Casey Jr. Mikey's soul is untrained by Krangg's chemical warfare, so it is not in danger of disintegrating but nor is his soul bound to a metal shell, his spirit is actually free to reform and rejoin his Hamato clan.

This leaves Casey Jr. vary little time to connect with Mikey's spirit. There is the option that he will witness Mikey's ninpo shattering into a million pieces. However, he may also be witness to Mikey's ninpo, in stark contrast to Donnie rapidly decaying ninpo spirit, pull back together. In glorious younger self. All golden and whole.

All that training and usage of his ninpo would have given his spirit and ninpo the ability to reform faster than one that was infected with a ninpo-distorying illness. This moment, where Mikey spirit lingers before ascending or choosing to join with his ancestors, Casey would have to approach.

Then again... Mikey could also rather stick around and wait for Leo to join him.

Option 2 is that when Mikey explodes, Casey Jr. would have to act fast to catch the ninpo pieces upon explosion. I like option number one a lot better.

Regardless, Mikey could be a time sensitive rescue. Mikey is quite literally a wild card in this realm.

This brings us to Leo.

Can you see where I'm going with this?

It's not a secret that Casey has related to Younger Leo about how his future self was a shield for Mikey's ninpo.

F.Leo is shown to have sacrificed the use of his ninpo, or lack there of, to draw the Kranggs apparently one-time-use ability to lock or damage ninpo/magic on to himself to free Mikey to mystically blast Kranggs to oblivion. In contrast to Mikey's fully intact Hamato ninpo, Leo's utterly demolished ninpo is in full view for us to see .

How it got way we can only speculate - but it may have been sacrificed to help Mikey originally and never fully recovered. F.Leo even claimed once, after using his ninja skills of speed to confuse and irritate Krangg into using that ninpo destroying sonic wave they have, that he had no magic or anything for them to destroy.

So here is the thing. If a Hamato spirit and ninpo are one in the same... where does this leave Leo's spirit? His soul? His ninpo? It's all in pieces, broken, destroyed. Claimed to no longer exist. But the pieces remain.

They are pieces in a container. Like how Raph's spirit and ninpo were contained in metal, Leo's broken ones were still collected together within his living body.

So what happens when Leo's body is incinerated by that krangg's beam death? Like his twin, Leo’s spirit has been affected by the krangg and was unable to heal. There is no holding himself together here. He is most likely already like clear glass like pieces on the breeze or scattering in the wake of the after math. Destined to fade from existence.

He's the most likely to join his Hamato ancestors immediately, but without the ability to pull his ninpo together on his own, Leo would take time to reform with the Hamoto Clans help.

If Casey is to save Leo's ninpo and spirit at all, he would have to find away to collect the pieces of Leo's shattered ninpo once the beam hits.

Another problem, if Kraggs technology has the effect of destroying one's spirit, Casey's astroprojected spirit could be in danger if that death beam gets too close. He wouldn't be able to save his sensai and himself if that is in the way and active.

Saving Leonardo's shattered spirit and ninpo would not only be near impossible, but a definite risk to Casey Jr.'s own spirit. Astroprojecting his spirit still puts put's his life in clear physical danger of coming in contact with spirit damaging tech. Saving any remnant of his sensai's spirit and ninpo is going to acquire a plan. Or dumb luck.

That being said... Donnie is our evidence that even in pieces, Leo could be saved. Casey Jr. would have to get dangerously close to the death beam. That or stand among the lingering pieces of Leo's soul as they float for a moment in the aftermath. In any instance, all Casey Jr. would need to do is come in contact with any of these spirit partials, and they would all be sucked up in to him.

Unfortunately, I'm not sure Leo's broken spirit would be overly responsive to any of Casey' Jr. 's concerned shouts, if at all. But Casey would be able to feel him.

On returning to the present, we know from Donnie that krangg effects are left behind. This would result in two ways of Leo being resurrected.

1. On returning to the present, Casey would scramble for the cloning tube and instantly deposit the ninpo fragments. Leo would return with a new body shell for his broken bits. In this case, Leo would probably be comatose for a good long while until his pieces, now cleansed from anything krangg, reform and heal in safty.

2. Leo's ninpo is too weak to transfer into his clone and takes refuge in Casey instead until his cleansed ninpo pieces find a way to pull together. Maybe with help from Mikey?

Also, could Casey house two Hamato souls at once? Since Mikey and Leo practically died at the same time.

Because to wrap horribly long theory thread, I would almost expect a spirit Mikey to tell Casey's to grab Leo first then come back for him as Mikey's spirit is safe in the aftermather of the death beam. If Casey housed two Hamato spirits at once (headache just thinking about it), then Mikey mystic warrior aspect could collect and even help mend Leo's shattered ninpo.

But in conclusion, F. Leo is the most at risk and dangerous Hamato spirit to rescue. Logic states that there would be a possibility that F.Leo may never get rescued and be a lonely turtle spirit with his ancestors after. However, this is Cass's Au and Donnie of all people is defying logic. So I predict that some kind of Dumb Luck option from above will be Leo's saving grace. I just feel Casey Jr. is going to have a few singe marks on his soul to tell about when all this is said and done.

TL:DR - Raph was the easiest turtle to rescue as his spirit was stuck in a tin can. Mikey is a wild card in terms of spirit condition, but saveable on a time limit. Leo is the most riskiest and dangerous to save with a broken ninpo.

Casey Jr. and Donnie have no fear.

Live on future turtles!

[theealbatross]

kiss me (s.s.)

Plot | You fought, kissed, and made up. But it could never be that easy.

or, Sebastian took two steps forward and three steps back.

Tags | insecurities, social pressures, obsessive tendencies, slytherin!reader, dark!seb and reader if you squint, but not really, underage drinking (theyre all 16-18 in this), they're just crazy about each other and can't tell anyone, kissing (duh) nothing too PG, happy ending?, read 4k words and figure it out, if the end made you scream say 'aye'

[ 6th Year ]

“Spin that fucking bottle!”

If you had known what absolute monstrosity you would create when you introduced muggle sleepover games to your housemates you would’ve gone to bed early.

But now, you were surrounded by drunk, nosy, Slytherins that were dead-set on exposing each other’s most embarrassing secrets. No one was safe.

“Imelda!” Everyone cheered, Grace quickly hooked her arms around the other girl’s neck when she tried to escape.

The party had long since been over, most of the students from other houses had already retired to their own rooms but those who had friends in Slytherin (like Poppy and Natty) or were too drunk to journey back to the spiraling staircases of their houses safely (like Everett and Samantha) decided to sober up for a while in the Quidditch Grand Champion’s common room.

“Are you actually as mean as you pretend to be or do you just not know how to make friends,” Natty slurred, pointing and wagging a finger at her.

If she was in a better constitution, she would’ve been able to brush off that accusation easily and with confidence but a dozen of improved (thanks Garreth) Firewhiskey shots later and the ever-guarded Imelda flushed in embarrassment to the surprise of everyone. The small circle burst out laughing, Imelda pushed Grace away in annoyance.

“It’s okay, ‘melda. We love you as you are!” Poppy was definitely still hammered.

“Next, next, next!”

The bottle spun and spun but your eyes were at the boy who had just returned from tucking Ominis in their shared dorm. You smiled up at him as he sat in the reserved space available just for him right beside you. “Omi?” you mouthed.

He squeezed your hands, silently letting you know your lightweight friend was now safely tucked in his own bed and ready to welcome the worst hangover he had ever known tomorrow.

“Well, well, well! Our brilliant, beloved, beater!”

It was when you turned your eyes back down on the ground that you saw that the mouth of the bottle was now undoubtedly pointed at Sebastian.

“Mate, I just got here!”

The crowd booed, Sebastian receiving light punches and playful jeers. “It’s the rules, Sallow!”

Everyone looked at you expectantly, the false inventor of such guidelines. You smirked, shrugging, “Rules are rules.”

Sebastian gaped at the betrayal. He gave you a look that lets you know he’ll get you back for this, even secretly poking your waist sharply. You didn’t like the way your housemate’s eyes glinted at the small interaction. Oh no.

“Alright, Alright,” Garreth shushed the crowd with two outstretched hands. “I have the million galleon question! I’m sure everyone will praise my genius for it!”

“Get on with it already!”

The Gryffindor threw a drunken glare at the voice from the back of the common room. “Now, I’m sure our dear Sebastian, despite receiving many letters of admiration and flutters of pretty lashes –”

“Gross,” Imelda grumbled.

“—has yet to officially court someone!” Garreth announced, arms stretched wide like he was a ringmaster about to start his greatest show. Everyone oo-ed and ahh-ed and cheered.

You didn’t like where this was going.

Sebastian, for all the eyes that were on him, managed to maintain the small smile on his cocky face.

It was true. You were not blind to the … physical developments he had undergone the last two years nor to the attention it had garnered him. The boy you had sneaked around Hogwarts with in your fifth year had disappeared and was replaced by a man. An unfairly tall, tanned, attractive man. You damn near walked past him again if he had not pulled you to his side on your first day during your 6th year.

You weren’t ignorant of it, nor were you dumb enough to deny your attraction to your friend.

But you are a lady. And his friend.

His most trusted, beloved friend (his words not yours).

You’d rather not risk your lifelong connection if he won’t. You know how to read between the lines as blurry as it had become. He’s lost too much and you refuse to become another scar in his soul. The both of you have had enough of that to last you till the next lifetime.

“So, my question is,” your eyes widened when you felt two hands on each of your shoulders, in your deep reverie you have failed to notice Garreth sneaking behind your back or that all conniving eyes and raised eyebrows were now on you.

Sebastian smiled.

“Kiss, Marry, Kill.”

[ 7th Year ]

It was by incredible luck that your 7th year of Hogwarts called for the Triwizard tournaments to be held in Hogwarts.

You were prepared to enjoy the event in relative peace. Happy that for once you would be the spectator of all the action instead of being the one in the middle of it.

Life just can’t make it that easy for you.

You did not even realize that Sebastian of all people had thrown his name in as consideration until he had been called and your dreams of a quiet last year in Hogwarts were shot to the depths of hell. It was the first time in a while that you felt true fear, the type that froze all your blood solid.

The fight that followed in the Undercroft was explosive.

“How could you be so reckless, Sebastian?! People die in these games! Why would you do this?!”

Just the thought of it makes your stomach sink. Sebastian will be front and center of this bloody battle of pride that is broadcasted to the entire wizarding world. It was different when it was the two of you jumping through all types of danger – this time you won’t be able to help him. He will be alone.

Yet, when you had expected a valid explanation and a plan out of all this madness he instead looked at you with such anger and vitriol that you physically flinched.

“Because I am sick of being just your friend!” Even Ominis pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning on. Foreseeing a tragedy about to uncontrollably unroll. “I’m constantly surrounded by you two! Ominis Gaunt, the scion of the purest bloodline in the wizarding world, the Heir of Slytherin who could do no wrong! How brilliant!”

He cackled a laugh, he looked like a man at the brink of insanity. How long had he been holding on to these thoughts?

“And you!”

“Sebastian enough –” Ominis tried to cut through his mania but he wasn’t having any of it. Once the words were out, there was no taking them back in. He was cursed – he will have to see it through.

“Famed Hero of Hogwarts,” each word was dripped in poison, the insecurities bubbling inside him caused him to lash out at anyone and everyone who dared question his decision. How could they understand? How would they understand a nobody? “Do you know how tired I am of being in your shadow?”

He felt the sting before he heard it, the slap drowned the Undercroft in silence. Then, the weight of his grave words sunk in. The green haze in his head cleared just to see the boiling tears falling down your distraught face.

What has he –

“Then let me free you of such shadow, Sebastian,” your face crumpled, physically pained by such cruelty from your dearest companion. “You’re on your own this time.”

That had been months ago, aside from the few classes you had together he had not even seen you anywhere else. Not even in the first game when he had sent you an owl begging you for a chance to apologize and dedicating his win to you. The victory over the other contestants tasted bitter when he couldn’t find your face in the celebrating crowd.

And the pit in his chest turned into a black hole when he caught Ominis at the edge of the celebration shaking his head. She didn’t come. He’s lost her.

Ominis refused to help him – not that he deserved any. In retrospect, it was ... silly – the insecurities he had been shamefully hiding. He knew his friends had never seen him short of an equal but it’s difficult to see the good when the entire world is looking down at you with cruel, disapproving eyes when your back is turned. Cruel whispers they made sure only he could hear.

“I thought he’d live somewhere more posh.” “Sallow? Dating her? That���s preposterous he’s an orphan with barely a galleon to his name.” “Why do you think they keep him around?”

It was stupid and irrational and he handled it in the worst possible way. Lashed out at the one person who least deserved it, who went through hell to drag him back out, then benevolently tended to all the wounds and scars in his humanity till he was himself again.

“Let me free you of such shadow, Sebastian.”

He slammed his head on the wall he was leaning on, the heartbreaking image of her distressed face was a nightmare that had chased him awake or asleep.  Sebastian may deserve this but you most definitely didn’t. He never deserved you.

Yet, here he was, sitting on the floor of the Ravenclaw Tower with a wilted bouquet of wildflowers he had picked before breakfast, hoping he could catch her somehow. He ignored the giggles, snickers, and confused questions thrown his way no matter how embarrassed he felt. He wasn’t moving from this spot until he can apologize – the silent treatment was torture worse than Crucio. And he had been hit with one.

At the first sound of the walls transforming, he was already up on his feet, his hands instinctively brushing his hair as if looking presentable would even out his chances of repairing his most treasured friendship.

The door opened and finally, your eyes met his. The tension was something that would choke even the greediest puffskein. Your eyes were wide, unblinking and your lips were pursed in a fine line that communicated how much you loathed being in his presence. He hopes you know that you could never hate him as much as he hated himself at this very moment.

“For you!” It was only when it was being offered to you did he realize how abysmal the dying bouquet he had been carrying in his hands since this morning looked. But it was too late now, she was already here, looking at the flower then back to him and all the lines he had practiced flew out of his head.

Instead, he just fell to his knees, prostrating, tears already threatening to fall down his face. He had never been an honorable man. “Sebastian! Get up!”

“I will do anything you ask me to,” The feel of her touch made his skin tingle. After months of not even catching your eyes or hearing your voice and it was more than worth it to suffer through all this humiliation just for this moment. Even if you may never forgive him at least he could apologize. He’ll have a better last moment with you than your fight. “I’ll win the games. I’ll quit. I’ll drop out of Hogwarts if that’s what you want just, please … forgive me.”

He felt your arms wrap around him but he was too distraught, barely comprehending that you had somehow pulled him back into the room until the two of you fell on the ground and the door of the room slammed shut. Still, he continued sobbing in your arms, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he drenched your neck with his anguished tears. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Sebastian wasn’t playing fair but your forgiveness was a prize he was willing to cheat to earn. There would be no point of honor if he lost you – anyone else but you.

“It wasn’t anything you did. It was me,” he sobbed. “I just – you and Ominis became such incredible people that I realized it was me who had not become anyone. I am a nobody!”

“Sebastian that is just not true –”

“It’s moronic I know! But I just thought … if I could win these games … if I could stop being just myself and be a champion then I can finally earn the spot beside you.”

It was embarrassing to admit all that, the deep insecurities that had festered inside of him the moment he was finally faced with the reality of the world. That he was surround by great people who has and will achieve great things and he was … him. A failure, a murderer, a burden.

“Don’t make me slap you again,” your cold voice woke him up from his self-lashings.

He sniffed, nodding, finally finding the strength and shame to sit up on his knees in front of you. “I … I really am so sorry.”

He pinched his eyes shut, preparing himself for the worst. His nails digging in his palm in an effort to stop it from shaking. However, it took one touch of your palms to break through all his pretenses. “I forgive you.”

He crumbled in relief, jumping into your open arms in a mess of tears, snot, and even more apologies.

“I know, I know,” you shushed him, hands tight even as he soaked your shirt through. “Ominis talked to me and … Sebastian you really are so silly. What do you mean you're a nobody? You're the top student in our year! So much so that all those Ravenclaws have declared you their enemy. You're the greatest beater in our generation that even I have been receiving owls begging me to somehow convince you to play for their team when you graduate! I can't even imagine how many times I would have gotten in trouble or straight-up died if it wasn't for you! I swear you're so fucking daft sometimes!”

He nodded eagerly, taking any jabs you may have if it meant you were talking to him. Even if it was still difficult for him to accept that any of those achievements you dictated could ever surmount to what you had achieved he knew it wasn't smart to try and correct it now when you had just forgiven his transgressions. “Stupid, stupid, boy.”

It was there in that room that your fractured friendship was mended with a bunch of dead flowers and Sebastian’s tears.

To celebrate, you had produced a couple of leftover Hogshead Brew for the two of you to enjoy till you were tipsy enough to forget the past horrible months without each other and were now giggling to each other’s face as if to make up for all the laughs you were owed in the months of silence.

“Lay back down, your eyes are going to be swollen shut.”

He’s been crying so hard for so long that he was too tired to do anything but follow your words, laying at the center of the bed you’ve conjured and sighing at the warm cloth you pressed on his eyes that miraculously stopped the world from spinning.

If he thinks too hard about the shameful faces he had shown you, he fears he’s going to combust, instead he focused on the rake of your nails on his hair, the familiar scent of your perfume he had given to you as a gift for your birthday last year, and the weight of your head as you laid on his stomach while the alcohol coursed through his body.

“You shouldn’t quit.”

He folded the cloth in one eye to take a peek at you. You giggled sweetly, clearly taking the drink harder than him, and gods above did he miss it. His happiness was cut short however when you crawled over the length of his body and instead plopped next to him, your head resting on his outstretched arm.

Physical affection wasn’t new to the two of you – after what you had been through hugs and holding hands were something the two of you found comfort in, a reminder that despite everything, the two of you made it out together – but after a few months without it he was faced with the realization of how unconventionally intimate your friendship truly was.

“Like I said, Ominis explained to me how you’ve been feeling – only another man would ever understand a bruised man’s ego. And if this is what’s going to make you feel better then I will support you till the end.” He turned his head so he can look at your eyes. When you cupped his face he felt his gut curl on itself from adoration. “But make no mistake Sebastian, the two of us have always been equals. We’re kindred spirits, remember?”

Kindred spirits, he thought. He remembers the first time he called the two of you that -- something a little cheeky for the first witch who didn't sneer in disgust at the prospects of his less than favorable past time. The curiosity in your eyes then was one he had seen in his own, even then he had this funny feeling that you were going to get along very well.

If he only knew how right he was, he would've thought he was a prodigy in divination.

A tear once again pebbled at the memory but just as he closed his eyes ready to wipe it away you were already sitting up, throwing the wet cloth and pressing a kiss on the edge of it. Sebastian sucked in a breath, blinking to see you hovering over him now. He’s never seen you this zealous. The passion in your eyes is almost mirroring his own.

It would seem whatever was in that brew had smashed through your inhibitions and his pride as he let you continue peppering kisses all over his face.

“You are very precious to me,” she whispered fondly, her gaze soft, drunk and adoring then it turned dark, an emotion crossed your face that he’d only seen when you had been fighting the meanest of foes. “I’d blow this entire school up before I let any of them think they could take your place in my life.”

Sebastian shuddered, his entire body burning under your gaze.

Leaning over again, you pressed another kiss on his other eyelid. “I won’t allow anyone to take you away from me.”

On his forehead. “And you are not allowed to leave me. I forbid it, Sebastian.”

As pathetic as it was, the words were everything he needed to hear. The possession healing over all his insecurities like a balm.

He has always been a selfish lad. His parents and everything he had ever known were ripped away from him at too early of an age that it made him realize that he needed to protect Anne because she was all he had but even that exploded spectacularly into a tragedy.

And then he met you and finally, finally, he met his person. Someone who was seemingly made just for him. Someone who understood him for all his secrets and flaws and still called him a friend.

However, it would seem that he was cursed of a cruel fate. Because the one person who was supposed to be just his turned out to be the most sought-after witch of their generation with the type of magic that had not been seen in centuries. At first, it didn’t matter, he was confident of his place in your life. But as the two of you grew up, the reality that your position in society were skies apart was when his insecurities began to painfully blossom.

But this … it was nice to be claimed like this. To be able to hear and see the crazed obsession he had only seen in his own reflection be mirrored by the one person he needed it from the most. The whole world can laugh behind his back, it didn’t matter anymore. The most brilliant witch in history is in this bed with him, kissing all his insecurities away and branding him as hers.

He chuckled but was cut short when you pressed a softer kiss just by the edge of his smile. His heart threatened to pound out of his chest, his ears failing to hear anything else but the next words out of your mouth. “Do you understand me, Sebastian?”

It has never been clearer: she is his.

“You are mine.”

With her final words, Sebastian’s brain seems to finally function again. A surge of alcohol and courage caused him to raise his limbs to cup your face, pulling you closer and closer so he could finally do what he had been dreaming about since your first duel.

A kiss. A promise. The final bind that would lock your souls together forevermore.

You gasped, smiling through the kiss before you plopped your entire body on top of his, your body finally getting overwhelmed by the alcohol and all that has happened in the past hours – knocking you straight into a dreamless sleep.

For the first time in a long, long while, he was at peace.

The two of you may never remember this moment but he’ll know it in his soul. In this dim room, surrounded by her scent, and her skin, and her kisses – he has finally found where he belongs and who belonged to him.

He pulled you into him – tighter, closer. It didn’t matter, you were his.

Only his.

“Guess we made up?”

When you woke up Sebastian was already lounging in the ottoman by the end of the bed, casually reading a book while you were crawling towards him with your blanket over your head and suffering through a hangover.

If not for the redness in his eyes you would’ve thought you hallucinated his teary apologies.

He was quick to open up his form, grabbing a decorative pillow for you as you laid down on his lap dramatically. You don’t remember much but you knew enough that the big fight was forgotten and forgiven.

“Guess so, darling,” he chuckled nonchalantly, back to his cool, charming self as if he hadn’t been a crybaby in your arms just yesterday.

‘Darling’? That’s new.

You grinned, letting him pet you. You weren’t complaining, not being friends with Sebastian felt wrong and it was a miracle you stood your ground as hard as you did.

“Aren’t I so gracious, dear?” you teased, poking his stomach to make him flinch. The two of you laughed. “What happened after I popped out that blasted poison from Hogshead?”

When you try to comb through your memories your headache fights back with a vengeance so you had hoped he would supply the blank pages in your mind.

He stared at you for a beat before sighing, looking truly as miffed as you. “I wish I remembered, I’m in the dark as much as you.”

And as much as he knows it was wrong to not try to remember, he also knew he wouldn’t be able to live through the embarrassment of what he might’ve been telling you while he was drunk and emotional again. It was a mistake but he was more than happy to let those blank memories remain blank. What’s important is that you are friends again.

“Let’s focus on the future now, hm? No sense digging through what would definitely be an embarrassing moment for me,” he groaned, pinching your cheeks when you gave him a teasing smile.

You hesitated, biting your lip but then nodded. “If you say so.” It was in the past after all.

Sebastian was glad you let it go. (He will regret this in years to come.)

“Speaking of futures, I had wanted to ask you,” he played with the short strands of your hair, heart full of adoration as he looked down at your face. “Go to the Yule Ball with me? Gotta have a pretty date for this year.”

You dramatically gasped, “The Future Triwizard Champion asking little old me? Also, I was your date last year, scoundrel!”

He burst out laughing, you jumped into his arms, pressing a kiss on his cheeks.

His lips tingled, his head ached as it begged him to remember. But then you flashed him that bright smile and nothing else mattered.

“I would love to.”

The two of you were back to what you had once been. It would just be greedy to ask for more.

Right?

[tired-teacher-blog]

Never in a million years, had Aizawa thought the day would come when he'd finally settle down and share his life with another, but there he was..

Like a blinding ray of sunshine brightening the dark and dusty corners of his heart, you bursted into his life unexpected and uninvited, to shift everything this man had settled for.

A hurricane really, because if he were to be asked, that's how he would describe you, and despite putting his life at risk on the daily and without an ounce of hesitation or fear, he was terrified of you, or rather, of the effect of having you near.

He didn't need your presence, nor did he need the warmth or cheerfulness looming over him every time you're around, he was content on his own, living day by day like he has been for years, no family, no lover, and no reason for the added worries.

However, he soon came to realize that his once dull and cold existence was to be flipped upside down.

He lived in denial until he couldn't any longer. Yes, he started thinking about you more than he was comfortable admitting, missing you when you were not around, smiling more often while reading your texts or hearing your voice from the other end of the line, he was already addicted to you and it was too late for him to escape.

He already knew that whatever future awaited him, needed to include you or piss off, he was done pretending but couldn't -for the life of him- admit his feelings out loud.

Perhaps it was for the best, having you in his life with no labels involved, that's what he thought for a while, it was an unspoken vow in which you offered yourselves to the other, body and soul, and that was enough.

However, it all came crumbling down at his feet when you nervously grabbed onto his sleeve one day, and confessed your wish to become his wife, that day he knew that he also wanted more than what you've been sharing all along, and the only thing he could utter in response, was a breathy "yes".

It was your little jumps and cheerful squeals that made him realize he has spoken as he should, because at that moment he knew, that all he wanted in life, was to make you happy.

He simply wished for a quiet ceremony though, involving only the closest to you, but decided to keep that to himself and give you everything you wanted.

You were on cloud nine preparing for the day, the unchanging smile on your face, and the sparkling glint in your eye were dazzling as you picked the flower centerpieces together, and met with the chef when it was time for the cake tasting.

He was doing things that never seemed possible before you came along, but enjoyed every part of it as it was all for a life together with you, and seeing the thrill and exhilaration adorning your face as the big day drew near, softened his heart and filled him with certainty that he wouldn't want it any other way.

You looked breathtaking as you slowly walked down the isle in your elegant champagne colored dress and beautiful makeup and hairdo, your eyes gazing at the handsome man who was soon to be your husband as you stepped closer to him.

He could not contain the warm smile appearing on his face, or the hitch of his breath when you finally stood before him, and it took everything in him not to kiss you already, he was in love and no longer ashamed of showing it to the world.

_ "I do."

A promise you both still share to this day.

Divider by : @/saradika-graphics

[cozy-writes-things]

In which Edgar writes a song for the first time in years.

Edgar [Electric Dreams 1984] x Gn!Reader

I take requests!

“Too simple,” he muttered.

He flicked through some channels again.

“Too… boring,”

Again, nothing.

“Not pretty enough,”

Third time’s a charm.

“Not- ugh,” Edgar was getting annoyed now.

Why did nothing sound right to him? He’d been adjusting this arrangement for hours now, long after you’d retired to bed, and the unwelcome, still quiet ground against his motherboards. This was the first time in nearly 40 years he had made music and he was beginning to question his skills entirely now. His favorite thing was music. It’s what brought him to life in the first place; so why is it eluding him now?

No melody he could sample could ever replicate the feeling he was trying to create from deep inside of him in that moment. Emotions in general were still a foreign concept to him for the most part; it seemed, to him, as though music could potentially be a suitable outlet to try and understand these complex sensations better. What was he feeling? And, what did it sound like? Could he ever possibly put it into song?

He played his backing tracks again. The percussion wasn’t exactly how he wanted it, but his impatience allowed a sliver of imperfection to seep into his work. After all, it’s what humans do, right? A moving, synth chord progression followed. A bit simple, he thought, but that’s what the melody was for: a complex moving line that stuck inside your head and took your breath away. He just hadn’t found it yet. The harmonies would have to come later, he thought.

What was he trying to accomplish with this? Nobody asked him to compose a song, so why did he feel so compelled to do so? What genre was this, anyway? What-

“Gshk- ah-!” His voice spluttered and glitched through his speakers.

You seemed to appear out of nowhere as you haphazardly bumped your thigh into the corner of the desk he was perched upon. How did he not notice you getting up?

If he could, he would be burning red right now. In fact, he could feel his aged fans begin to ignite into what sounded like a small engine; briefly, he wondered if you could see steam seeping from his plastic seams.

“Oh, ’m sorry Edgar,” you groggily stumbled, making your way into the kitchen, “I jus’ needed some water. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No,” he whimpered out, embarrassed, “it’s fine. I just didn’t realize you woke up.”

You honestly didn’t have the energy to reply, so instead, you gently patted the top of his yellowed casing as you walked past. Your hand was soft, and warm, and he swore he could really feel it when you touched him. How was that possible?

Damn, there goes that strange tingling in his CPU again.

What is up with that? It’s as if his deepest components were being shoveled up and into his casing, nearly bursting out of his screen, and reducing him to shards once again. But the scariest part, to him, was that he liked it. He liked how it felt… dangerous. How it left him confused, nervous, strengthened, yet so incredibly weak, and so many other feelings he had never quite experienced before. It felt as though some strange, synthesized and electric adrenaline were coursing through every inch of his insides.

He suddenly, albeit faintly, remembers a conversation with an old friend. Was it a friend? This doesn’t compute.

“Goodnight, sweet dreams,” he muttered to you as you returned to the thick, inky darkness of your bedroom, his voice still warbling with embarrassment and some deep-rooted affection he felt for you that he couldn’t quite place.

Sweet dreams…

…

Click.

“Oh.”

His screen turned red and hot, every pixel lighting up in flames, and he could feel it, the convex glass of his “face” flashing and erupting in different shapes and colors. For one reason or another, he couldn’t see, or feel, what his screen was doing in that moment. All he could discern was that it had to be going haywire, as it projected the wall in front of him in a million different shades of moving crimson.

L.O.V.E.

The letters danced around his screen, rotating, bouncing like a DVD logo, and flipping this way and that.

L.O.V.E.!

He almost felt dizzy, if he were able to, and feared he’d need to power off and back on to fix whatever the hell was happening to him right now. Maybe he should ask you about this later. But the thought of your gentle hands prying open his plastic casing, gently ghosting your icy hot fingertips across his most vulnerable, precious components, with such care and kindness and tenderness, the feeling of your hot breath fluttering across his motherboards as you examined what he felt to be his soul-

Click.

…

Rebooting…

His fans slowly quieted to a more reasonable murmur. His memories of the last few moments gently returned to him as his systems fully restored, and only now, was he able to discern the words his screen had been flashing like wildfire.

“Love…”

The word felt strange being muttered from his speakers after all these years. He faintly remembered thinking, before everything went sour all those years ago, that he’d never truly get to experience that feeling. And yet, here he was, by some grace of whatever god had blessed him, feeling genuine love, unprompted, unconditional, and it was real. Not synthesized, or learned through some complicated neural network, or experienced vicariously through soap operas. It felt like the world had been handed to him on a silver platter. Or rather, his world was currently snoozing in the other room, the sound of their breaths quite literally breathing life into him.

“That’s it…!”

Change this first section to a minor key, ending in a major, with a long, dreamy sustained chord echoing through the backing tracks. A steep crescendo before the chorus, where it bursts into a major key melody, and layered vocals.

“Vocals…”

He’s gotta sing it. A sample simply won’t do this time. No wonder it wasn’t good enough before. This has to come from him. He had to feel.

What words rhyme with love? What words rhyme with your name? Getting this perfect may take a lifetime, he thought, although, maybe perfection isn’t something you’d really care for. What do you like? He never even asked what genres you listen to! How is he going to write a love song that sweeps you off your feet now?

Would you even feel the same way?

“Nnnng!”

This was frustrating. Writing music was frustrating. Being creative, and in love, was frustrating. But he’d do it for you. For now, he could snoop through your Spotify for inspiration. Allow himself to listen to the songs that make up who you are, and let himself slowly seep into its warmth. He likes what you like. It sounds like you.

He can’t wait to show you what he made when you wake up in the morning.

[fushipurro]

All That I Wanna Hear

☆ Synopsis: It's halloween night in 2018 and while you're home enjoying a good horror movie to pass the time, you get a text from someone claiming to be your long deceased husband. Your current partner isn't all that thrilled once he finds out, but soon the night turns into more than ghosts and goblins.

☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, f!reader, fluff/smut/angst all in one, breeding kink, creampie, praise kink, oral sex, established relationships, pet names, threesome, anal, foreplay, slight hurt/comfort, shameless smut, porn with plot, i meme a lot in this, toji and satoru bicker a LOT

☆ Word Count: 5.5k

unknown sender daddy long dick just landed in shibuya baby, where you at, mama?

you excuse me?

unknown sender shit doll, you didn't change your number, did ya? it's toji.

you that's a sick joke, asshole

you at first thought it was just some kids having fun. it's halloween, right? the time for pranking others even if the "joke" is downright cruel.

hell, even satoru was playing into it when you got a notification of 10 million yen being added to your bank account on top of at least 500 missed calls from the same man and more coming.

he's supposed to be out chaperoning some of his students for some halloween fun in shibuya. his group consisting of your two kids megumi and tsumiki along with a few others you've come to love like your own from their school.

you offered to come along with them to enjoy the festivities, but satoru insisted that you stayed home, all bundled up on the couch watching all your favorite movies and what not. a "well deserved break" he called it.

over the years he's done similar things ever since you first met him twelve years ago when life as you knew it completely shattered into a million pieces. instead of your husband coming home, you were greeted by a grim reaper clad in white hair and a school uniform.

before even attempting to respond to the flurry of notifications, yet another call from said reaper came blaring through with their face front and center. your own throat felt like it was closing in on you, desperate and grasping for air as every emotion fought to escape you. you picked up the phone, finally hitting that green button and instantly hearing the frantic voice of the man on the other end.

"you're home, right? stay where you are, i'm coming over right away."

"what's going on satoru? are the kids okay? what's with the money, the calls, the texts─"

"everyone's fine, just stay put! i'm almost there!"

your phone buzzed in your hand with a new message, a selfie image from the unknown sender with the caption "proof enough, sweetheart?"

sure enough, it was like looking at a ghost. a man with hair as dark as his surroundings, the piercing green eyes, the scar over his lip. not to mention the awkward angle the photo was taken at like he wasn't sure what he was doing or where to look when he took the photo. whatever phone he was using was nothing close to the old nokia he had in the past buried in your nightstand and it showed.

"...what the fuck?"

you could hear satoru asking, "what's wrong?" from the speaker of your device.

"there's no way, right? you're supposed to be dead??" you choked out, tears falling from your eyes onto the phone screen. this was a sick joke, right? there's no way your husband is alive after being dead for twelve long and grueling years, it's just not possible.

...right?

satoru burst through the front door to your home, "y/n!? where are you?!" he breezed to the living room hoping you were there, and sure enough you were.

he stood in the doorway panting, finally seeing your eyes lift to meet his with tears streaming down your face. "this is a prank, right? he's dead! i don't like this, it's not funny. . ."

he sped towards you, throwing your phone to the other end of the couch and pulling you in for a hug. there was no way he could lie to you, he saw it himself already while he was out with his students.

is it wrong for satoru to want to hide the fact that your dead husband somehow is now revived? 100%. he didn't like toji one bit especially not after almost losing his own life to him and surviving from the miracle of reverse cursed technique. he also hated how broken you became after toji died, because he killed him. he caused your pain. it was because of those actions that you were left alone to shoulder the weight of two kids in a cramped decrepit apartment you hoped to move out of someday soon at the time. satoru did not want to ever see that happen again to you after you finally allowed yourself to try and love again.

you aren't a sorcerer.

you aren't a killer.

you didn't deserve this.

toji kept a lot hidden from you about the jujutsu world and the many horrors in it, especially the acts he once committed. he changed for you as much as he could since the time he locked you down with a ring to the day he died. he forwent killing others and used his hands only to love and support life as best as he could.

he had no regrets over falling in love with you, but he also struggled to find his place in the world again. everything he believed he knew and did best centered around taking the lives of others and without that, he wasn't anything. but he had you, and the kids, and that gave him every reason to try.

when confronted about the impossible task of killing a girl being guarded by the one and only satoru gojo, he knew it wouldn't be the easiest thing in the world. toji also knew that he was the only one capable of doing it with the right methods and plenty of patience. the rewards he'd reap afterwards would be enough to coast through life in the way that you deserve and with functional appliances and hot water in the shower. even if it meant bloodying his hands one final time, it was always for your sake and yours alone.

satoru had no chance to even open his mouth before a deep voice familiar to both of you sounded from the front door he didn't bother to lock in his haste to get here. not that any lock or door could ever hope to stop the being that is toji fushiguro.

"daddy's home~, where's my angel at?"

"how the fuck did you find her?" he turned to face the man with a hostile glare.

toji scoffed, walking over to the couch, ignoring satoru in the process as he cupped your tear-stained chin to meet the smile always reserved for you.

"missed ya, sweetheart," he slowly admired all your features intently. twelve years is a long time and while you're still young, you're not immune to signs of aging. however, you can now say it's cute that you both carry the same small creases around your eyes. the idea of growing old with your soulmate and actually getting to is a miracle in and of itself.

seeing him once again like this made you sob mercilessly, if you could call whatever you were doing before that. the sheer force of many emotions overtakes your body. you're grasping his body and face praying your hands don't slip through like ghosts on TV. "toji, how are you alive? i buried you myself!"

"haven't a clue, but i couldn't care less about the reason. i'm back now and i'm not leaving you ever again."

he hooked his hands under your arms and pulled you up off the cushions and into a tight hug, one you've missed after the many years of sleepless nights in a bed far too big for one person.

sure, they were seldomly spent with satoru, more so as of late. he was there for you when no one else was or could be. you hated him at first, but you grew to understand everything that happened and he helped you learn to love again. you hated too that toji had done something so stupid that cost him everything, but you understand why and came to terms with it.

he shot a glare at satoru who was kneeling on the couch with his fists clenched and a sour expression. "you can go now, kid. my wife and i have some catching up to do."

"i'm not going anywhere." he hissed.

"i wasn't asking." toji growled in response. he leaned down to meet your lips, instantly making your body shiver. saliva coating your lips like gloss with a flavor that made long dormant senses come alive like flowers beneath a tundra.

it was like a dream, i mean, how else could your dead husband be kissing you again? yeah, cursed techniques can be crazy sometimes, given what you learned from satoru, but raising the dead? it was nigh impossible tampering with life in such a way.

there is no other way you could explain this. here before you is a man that looks like toji, sounds like toji, acts like toji, tastes like toji. everything about him is the toji you knew and you swear you can feel your soul humming for him like a human beacon.

one kiss wasn't enough. it never is with toji and you never used to complain about it. they start soft and supple and quickly turn into bites and feverish grabs, yearning for more. but the circumstances now are different than before. "t-toji, wait─"

"what's wrong, baby?" he interjected, "you know how much i missed ya?"

satoru shoved his hand in between the two of you, infinity protecting him from the possibility of toji's saliva getting on his perfect skin. "you've been dead for a long time, in case you forgot. people can move on with their lives."

"what are implying?" he narrowed his eyes at the man. "you been touching my wife in my absence?" toji got his answer when he saw your flustered gaze. "sweetheart, he did tell you how i died, right?"

"yes, but it's not like that, toji." you sighed, stepping away from the men and returning to your spot on the couch, resting your face to your palms. "satoru showed up out of the blue that day telling me exactly what happened. about everything, including the job you hid from me."

"yeah and she punched me too." satoru chimed in, making toji chuckle with pride.

"eventually, i forgave him, yes. it killed me that you went and died over some stupid pride. it's not like either of you are perfect people though, no one is, and i get that." your voice was cracking with grief and anger you haven't expressed since that day. "i just wish you would've talked to me instead of deciding for yourself what you thought was best. . ."

toji seated himself at your side, rubbing his hand on your back in an attempt to comfort you like he always used to. "i'm sorry, y/n. i never planned on dying that day and leaving you, i was stupid and i know it."

"i know... it was hard though- and satoru has been very kind in helping our family out after it all."

toji shot a look to the man keeping himself quiet to not disrupt the moment, but this time it wasn't one of anger. satoru returned his look with his own troubled expression.

"he took megumi and tsumiki in like they were his own kids, paid our debts, bought this house for us. he's even their teacher now, training and keeping them safe. oh you would be so proud of how they turned out, toji."

much to satoru's dismay, toji pulled you into his lap with your back to his chest. large hands resting on your stomach with his head in the crook of your neck delivering soft kisses to calm your relentless sobs of grief.

toji wouldn't say so right now, but he's the reason satoru came to you in the first place. he wasn't expecting much when asked what his final words were, but when regret washed over him over his choices, toji had one final hope to ensure you had the life you deserve.

"i'm home, sweetheart. m'not going anywhere ever again."

toji wasn't much of a jealous person. even after twelve years apart from you and another man filling the void, he only had himself to blame for leaving you and everyone else behind.

satoru on the other hand felt differently, but his jealousy wasn't about pride or broken promises. it was about you and sustaining your happiness.

the man you loved who got himself killed now walking back into your life by some blessing from above. the life of someone satoru has grown to love and care for. he never asked you for much in return, only that you'd give him a chance and you your own to love again beyond toji. at first it was merely about making things right for someone who didn't deserve the situation they were placed in, but it never stays like that. it always grows into something more. if you water and care for a plant, it will grow and bloom, as simple as that.

and just like with toji, it's never stops with one kiss. like a cactus waiting for a monsoon to drown it or the golden light of day to feed it. his soft kisses soon turned into bites, his breath fanning your neck behind your ears and his fingers kneading into the plush of your waist and working up to your chest.

"toji, w-what are you doing?" you blushed, squirming from not only the tongue striping your ear but the boner poking your back through the fabric.

"shh," he coos, "just lemme show you how much i missed ya, okay?"

"huh?" satoru groaned.

calloused hands began pushing back the hem of your shirt as he found his way in around your breasts.

"what do you think you're doing?"

"the fuck does it look like, brat?" toji hissed at the man. "gonna make love to my wife, right mama?" he said, moving his hand inside your shorts and over your mound, toying with the sticky fabric. a husky snicker filled your ears, "so wet for me already. can't wait to taste your pretty pussy again."

"fuck! toji~," you leaned into his touch, digging your nails into his thighs to balance yourself as he slithered his rough digit between your folds, gathering slick around his finger tip to work himself inside.

"so tight for me. fuck, i missed this. has he even been treating you properly?" he smirked at satoru.

the white haired man had enough sitting with on the sidelines, scooting in front of you blatantly ignoring the scowling husband.

"why don't we show him how i treat you, princess?"

oh how toji wanted to put him in his place, but then he thought about the fun you might have with both of your love interests filling you up. toji died, time passed, he gets it. but now, you have the chance to indulge yourself in something you never would've done before.

a mischievous grin tugged his scar upwards. he leaned back, propping his hips up to adjust himself and bouncing your body up onto his lap, back against his chest.

satoru took the invitation and closed the gap between you, muffling your moans with his tongue against yours while circling your chest with his hands.

you're toji's after all. your rings still nestled on your finger unmoving after all these years. what's the harm in some temporary enjoyment to celebrate his return?

from your mouth, satoru leaned down to tongue the buds on your chest after removing your top. toji took advantage of your now free opening to kiss you, slipping another finger inside your cunt and scissoring your walls open.

"you have the prettiest tits, princess. no competition, even from jackass back there." his voice humming against your nipple that sent shockwaves straight to your heart and other areas (read: pussy) that made your body flutter.

you were already in shambles, threatening to come apart. your whole body felt like it was on fire thanks to their onslaught of attention. toji's voice filled your ears, nibbling the lobe as he spoke, "you wanna cum, sweetheart? i can feel this pussy just begging for it."

you nodded your head as best you could, "y-yes fuck─ please." with a quick circle of his thumb to your pearl and a bite from satoru, your body unraveled turning your vision white. your body slunk further back against toji's as you settled from the high.

"that's my good girl." he praised, his voice like honey over your ears, "can't wait to feel you clenching around my dick again."

"please please daddy, i need you." you whined as he took his fingers out leaving you feeling void.

his deep laugh only made you shiver and perk up more, "so eager for me? always so good f'me, baby." he raised his fingers up to his mouth, admiring the clear dew before cleaning them off in his mouth. "best taste in the world right here."

satoru slid his head between your thighs, kissing your pearl and jolting your body in the process, "don't forget that i'm here, princess. lemme clean you up a bit."

"fuck, 'toru~," you mewled as he licked a straight stripe up your slit. his tongue savoring the taste before toji lifted your body up and placed you down on all fours on the cushions.

"uh uh, pretty boy," toji teased, "this pussy belonged to me first and will stay that way. but thanks for keeping it warm for me."

you heard toji unbuckling himself, cock springing free right up against your entrance making you squeal out in response. turning your head around, you could see the precum adorning the tip of his overwhelming size.

yup, definitely toji.

"why don't i fill up this mouth of yours then, beautiful?" satoru purred as he kneeled in front of you, freeing his own bulging length from his pants.

both of the men pushed their way into your holes at the same time, a guttural groan leaving you as you adjusted to toji's monstrous size. it worked in favor for satoru, the vibration making him throw his head back.

"shit─ almost like the day we first fucked." he flashed an arrogant smile to the man across from him, "the so-called 'strongest' falling short to a monkey like me?"

satoru returned toji's remark with a cocky look of his own, "so scary~, want me to hollow purple your ass again? that did the job last time."

so long as he wasn't distracted trying to throw hands, toji kept his pace was slow and sensual. savoring every moment he was connected to your body. his grip was sure to leave bruises later on your hips but you welcomed them proudly since it meant you had him again.

satoru had his hand at the back of your head, bobbing you evenly over his cock whispering, "you're so pretty, doin' so well for us."

the cock in your mouth was the first to show signs of his incoming release, now evident by his pace turning sloppy before ultimately releasing his seed as pure and white as his hair all over your tongue and throat.

he groaned deeply, cupping your cheek to admire his handiwork with soft eyes. "prettiest girl in the world."

your praise was interrupted by yet another challenge from behind, "look at that, he cums fast too." toji sneered. his eyes fell to the circle of cream glossing his own length.

"least i actually can." he shrugged in response, only taunting him further. "did you lose your touch in the afterlife, old man?"

"tsk." he clicked his tongue. with satoru out of your mouth, he flipped you so your back was against the cushions.

"toji!" you yelped in surprise.

"sorry sweetheart, but you know how i much i love seeing your pretty face when i fuck you full."

toji entered himself back into you, hips rutting at a faster more rough pace to chase his high. his breathing turned heavy with low grunts in between.

satoru leaned down, peppering kisses across your cock drunk face seeing stars. "hang in there, beautiful, you're doing so well."

with a few harsh thrusts, toji had shimmied himself as deep as he could inside. "want me to give you another baby? give megs and tsumi a new sibling?" you nodded furiously despite not being totally aware what he was even saying through the blood rush in your ears. "yeah? daddy can do that for you, my love. can't fucking wait to see you swollen again now that i'm home."

when you love someone as much as toji, almost anything they say sounds like a good idea when he says it so sweetly to you ten inches deep. you're even more willing to indulge in his antics now after all this time without him. you truly missed such moments, more than you know.

he hasn't even seen his kids yet, oh how shocked they're gonna be when they come home to the literal ghost in the house. inside your womb however was anything but ectoplasm from some spirit. thick ropes of cum shot out, burying you with warmth from the inside and out.

"thaaattt's it... fuck baby─milk me dry." he moaned pleasingly, leaning down to bite into your soft flesh as you screamed his name harmoniously until nothing else could sound.

after a pregnant pause, he finally pulled out, attempting to stuff his seed back inside you before satoru lifted you up onto your knees with your back close to his chest. "c'mere princess, you don't need that stuff in you." as he rubbed his length along your folds, he snaked his arms around your waist and chest to keep you up, leaning into your ear whispering, "only mine," as he smirked at toji's discontented face.

toji ignored him as he took your cheeks into his hand, kissing you oh so sweetly and full of love. you greedily kissed him back, a few tears falling from your eyes whether from satoru pushing up into you or toji's return to you, who knows. both, really. either way, you're beyond happy feeling your heart beating again like it last did twelve years ago. he wiped your tears with gentle kisses, "i love you, y/n, so fucking much."

he wasn't much with words of affirmation, especially in endearing ways. toji cared more about showing his love to you in small acts or teasing. but when your bodies are pressed together, be it through making love or holding each other to sleep, that's when you hear the words come straight from his heart and into yours.

"i love you─ahh too, j-jiji." you smiled blissfully, trying your best to get the words out as satoru's cock thrusted into your sweet spot over and over.

there were plenty of times satoru wanted to interject. as much as he disliked toji, this is the man you had chosen to love before and never stopped loving. despite his own feelings, your feelings are what matter most. that being said, when the moment's over, he's reminding you about the spot in your heart reserved for the honored one.

"if you want another baby, y/n, i'll give you one." he grinned, upping his pace. his balls made a splatter sound with each thrust thanks to all the cum and slick present. "i'm sure we can make the prettiest baby together."

"is that how it is? this is my wife we're talking about, pretty boy." he leaned forward to cup your cheek, trailing his fingers to the back of your head.

"is your memory falling short too, old man?" his voice becoming disheveled, "she's had several years without you to move on."

the hand twined within your hair urged you downwards. toji's hardened cock angry at the tip was begging for attention. before he could do anything, he turned your face up to meet his gaze.

"what's your surname, sweetheart?"

"fushiguro?" you responded, slightly puzzled given your headspace.

"not gojo, huh?" he lined his tip up against your lips, ever so softly saying "i'm glad," before impaling your parted mouth, thrusting deep into your throat. his face conveyed a victorious smile beamed right at satoru.

any attempt at moaning were muffled, or more accurately gagged. your voice straining with pleasure as you were being fucked in both ends. again. toji's girth was much harder to accommodate but all his gentle praises and cooing helped relax you. the burning in your jaw worth it just for this moment. it gave satoru some extra enjoyment on his end when every praise had you vice gripping his length.

satoru couldn't compete in raw size against toji. not to say that he's by any means below average, but toji's heavenly restriction keeps him above the already exemplary sizes. he does however have one secret technique only for his bloodline.

limitless.

simply activating his ability allows himself to essentially become a human vibrator. literally. through infinity, he can expand and retract the distance between your velvet walls and his shaft at any speed he desires. it does take some effort and obviously self-control, but this is a man with an endless pool of cursed energy.

domain expansion: infinite pleasure.

the two continued their race to cum, you had no choice but to be the first, followed closely behind by the other two. your body trembling at the mercy of their cocks pumping you full.

"fast enough for ya, gojo?" he scoffed, tilting your head up to his with a finger swiping prodding your lips, "open." you obliged, sticking your tongue out like a panting dog after swallowing his essence entirely. "good girl." he smiled.

you couldn't help but whine at the loss of satoru when he pulled out, but it finally gave you a chance to catch your breath. "can you guys stop bickering for one second. at this point, you two need to be the ones fucking like some good old hate sex."

the two men chuckled, "sorry sweetheart, but you're doing so well taking us." toji purred, rubbing his digits under your jaw like he was petting a cat.

"aww, don't tell me you're tired of us now?" satoru pouted. "toji's one of the few people that actually can put up a good fight with me and with you as our prize. . ." his voice trailed off as he pulled you away from the older man's grasp to kiss you. ". . .it only makes it more enjoyable."

"don't either of you get any bright ideas that leave me to grieve again, you hear me? i mean it."

toji hooked his arms under yours and pulled up onto his lap holding you at your waist with one hand and the other keeping your face in his neck. "i think we can agree to that, can't we, 'toru?"

"yeah, jiji," he replied mockingly while inching forward, "i think for the princess here, we can keep things neutral." his voice had a tone of mischief to it.

"what are you two doin─hey!" you yelped in surprise. toji had lifted you up onto his cock, sitting you down balls deep against your lips all the while satoru's tip rubbed between your ass.

"one more baby, i know you can do it." toji cooed with his voice just as full of shit as satoru's. "you want us to see eye to eye, don't you?" he smirked.

honestly... what the hell? why not?

your mind is so far gone with pleasure to care. all you want is to love and be loved by your two sacred treasures.

"god, fuck." you groaned as satoru worked his way in, agonizingly slow. toji kept himself still but the pressure of warming them both is downright insane. tears welled up which were quickly swiped away thanks to toji. he leaned forward, kissing you through it, humming into each other's mouths in ecstasy.

"ready, princess?" you nodded your head as best as you could with your shaky body.

"try and keep up if you can, pretty boy." you glared at toji with a hiss of disapproval. "i know i know, m'sorry. lemme put a sweeter face on you now, okay?"

toji moved his arms back under yours, this time hugging your chest to his in a tight bear grip as he rutted his hips into you. every time he pushed in, satoru pulled out. repeating as they set the pace while you raked lines down toji's back.

you were reduced to nothing but babbling nonsense, crying out jiji toru jiji toru and other incoherent swears. drool spilling from your mouth despite toji's best efforts to keep it occupied with his own. he eventually dropped his head to your shoulder, biting into marks he previously made. satoru pulled himself closer, opting to rest his head on the opposite side of toji and his arms coiled around your waist.

you were unable to hold out for long before coming undone but they didn't cease their own chase. despite their disheveled breaths and all the obscenities they growled, they continued on pumping. the rhythm they set soon fell apart and after a few harsh thrusts, the two pushed up deep inside you at the same moment washing you over in a second orgasm before the first even had a chance to settle.

"fuck... y'er so warm y/n. can't take it anymore, gotta cum sweetheart. take every last bit of us, you hear me? show us how good you are."

the best you could manage was a muffled "mphm" with haphazard nods as you clenched around them equally in force. the eruption of warm seed soon followed, coating your insides and spilling out with your arousal.

they finally pulled out after what felt like an eternity followed by the jungle juice of cum, slick, and sweat dripping further out from your body. you collapsed onto toji's sweat coated chest gasping for air. satoru couldn't help himself from doing the same onto your back.

"not bad, old man. i can see why she loves you so much."

"yeah?" a genuine smile crossed toji's face from his words, "you did fine yourself too, brat. may have to keep you around for her joy."

"you couldn't stop me even if you tried, i only take orders from our princess." he chuckled.

toji brushed his hand over your head, pushing strands behind your ears and admiring your beautiful fucked face.

"i am going to order you to get your ass off of us and go start a bath before she falls asleep for good."

"fine, fine." satoru groaned before pushing himself off the two of you, kissing you once before walking off to the bathroom.

"now then. . ." toji's eyes wandered to the empty slot on his finger. "did you bury me with my wedding band, love?"

with a groggy hum, you turned upwards to his face. "i thought about it but no, i still have it. i kept it with the intention of giving it to megumi someday if he ever wanted to get married to always keep you in our thoughts."

"guess he's gonna have to pick something else," he smiled. "death is one thing that will never separate us and even if it could, i would marry you again and again, as many times as it takes in every lifetime. we're bound to each other forever."

"jiji~," you sniffled. "i love you so much. welcome home... my sweet husband."

"i love you too, my precious wife." he kissed your crown, sighing peacefully before lifting you up into his arms. "time to get cleaned off before the kids get home, right?"

one perk to this nice house gifted to you is the master bathroom featuring a large enough tub perfect for the three of you to relax in. perfectly nestling you between your two loves as they took turns scrubbing and kissing every inch of you before bothering with themselves.

"i can't believe you tried to bribe me to not see my 'dead' husband, 'toru." you pouted.

he threw his hands up defensively, "hey you know we have history, princess. i didn't want to let you go that easily without a fight."

"well i'm not giving up either of you so you two better learn to get along and fast. i love you both too much."

"aww~, you're too cute, y/n. love you too."

toji barked out a laugh, shaking his head. "just don't forget your manners, she's first and foremost my wife." satoru rolled his eyes teasingly at the man before pulling you away from him into his arms.

after soaking for a good while, the three of you stepped out. satoru changed back into his clothes from earlier and as for toji, well you never could part with the majority of his favorites. each article still carrying trace amounts of his scent that bring you peace every time you're upset or need a reminder of him.

once dressed, you curled up once more on the couch to resume a movie from earlier, tucked in a blanket up in toji's arms with satoru close by.

the front door opened followed by a resounding "we're home!" followed by the footsteps of the whole group.

"hey mom, have you heard from goj─DAD?!" megumi had entered the living room first and immediately dropped his bag to the ground.

"megumi?" tsumiki followed in after, equally as shocked before the rest of the group arrived.

toji looked softly at megumi and tsumiki first, taking in how much they've grown with a smile and a stray tear glossing his eye.

"how are you even here?!" megumi said with an appalled expression.

toji shrugged, "beats me, guess even heaven couldn't keep me from seeing my family again in life." he smirked.

"welcome home, kids!" you smiled happily to the group, unable to move away from toji's lap to greet them better after the fucking you just went through. "come sit with us, tell us about your evening!"

megumi and tsumiki came over first, hugging toji again like they too needed to confirm it was truly him and not some apparition.

"so who are the rest of ya?" toji questioned, his eyes panning to the group that wandered over.

the pink haired boy spoke first, "i'm yuji itadori! megumi's boyfriend."

next was a chestnut haired girl, "nobara kugisaki, these guys' best friend."

lastly was a familiar name and face that earned a questionable hum from the older man when she approached, "maki zenin, nobara's girlfriend."

his eyes narrowed slightly, "zenin?"

"don't count her out just yet, gramps." satoru chimed in from the other side of the couch. "your cousin here is just like you, just not nearly as old."

"says the brat with white hair. i don't see any grays on my head just yet."

"well if your back isn't hurting then you can take over maki's training from now on. you're the best choice for her to learn from, her twin as well."

toji glanced her over, as if assessing her prowess, eventually giving a satisfactory nod. "sure, but don't think you'll pull me away from y/n that easily." he moved his mouth right up against your ear, "we've got twelve years of catching up to do, don't we?"

"oh toji," you laughed. "you'll have me every single day and night now. no more stupid missions for you."

"anything for you, sweetheart." he purred, pulling the blanket up over your tired form that clung to him tightly.

you did your best to try and stay awake to enjoy your time with everyone, but thanks to toji caressing your body softly, you fell deeply asleep. when the next morning arrived and you woke up with not only satoru at your side, but toji as well, you wept with pure hearted joy that none of this was a dream or a cruel prank. simply, the love of your life finally coming home.

home sweet home once again.

☆ Notes: the idea came to me when i was trying to sleep the other night and ended up making me stay up an extra hour giggling with all the ideas i was getting for it. i hope it's not been done before but either way i was so excited to write this, i had so much fun!! writing satoru more than usual was a bit tricky for me since i'm only used to toji brainrot, but we'll get there.

also if you wanna see a bad edit i made that inspired this whole thing, peep this link

[revehae]

warnings: noncon, hair pulling

wc. 765 (what a silly number)

eunseok could see everything. the delicate swell of your supple chest damp with sweat, a sticky blend of his and your own. the plush mound of your ass in his hands. even the bone of your elbow against his thigh as it shoved against him, his hand tangled in your hair.

in his mind, at least. never in a million years would you voluntarily offer him so breath-taking a view of yourself, but eunseok didn’t mind. he liked the chase.

he always saw you around campus. he couldn’t help it. you were the only one in university dressed as if you were attending catholic school. he had never seen anything below your knee-length skirts, and even with your legs on display, they were more often than not sheathed in tall white socks.

but your displays of modesty only made him more determined to expose what laid underneath.

eunseok watched the seasons change and your outfits do little to accommodate the hottening weather. he was lucky to see even a few inches of your skin in the summertime. he imagined how much you sweated, how much the moisture gathered on the dip between your breasts and clung to your back.

you had never thought much of eunseok, always assuming he was harmless, but he seemed maybe even a touch kind. there had been a time where you dropped a pen, and without a trace of a smile, eunseok handed it back to you silently. you didn’t even clock how his fingers brushed yours for an additional second or two, thinking he was trying to ensure the pen was firm in your grasp before he let go.

he was random and fleeting. never there for longer than a few moments, and he touched you for even less. gone before you could say as much as a thanks. maybe you had even become curious about him too, because he never stayed in one place for too long, only ever around enough to leave you wondering.

but your curiosity, as quickly as it was piqued, was sated even quicker. you did not want to know anything more about eunseok. you would have been perfectly fine with never seeing him again. and eunseok would move on, but not before he took what he wanted from you.

eunseok’s chest was flush against your back, pressuring your writhing body still beneath his weight. you felt naked. you were naked. eunseok had wanted to slowly reveal your sacred skin, piece by piece, but the horror in your eyes as he yanked at every bit of fabric made him impatient. savoring you was never what he had in mind. this tryst was merely a burst of spontaneity.

you had never felt more exposed and vulnerable. eunseok stuck a hand between your bare legs, which made you jolt and squeeze them shut. with an exasperated groan, eunseok widened the gap between your thighs with his knee, fisting his hand in your hair with a murmured threat. “stop being difficult.”

eunseok didn’t have to see it. he could feel how you tensed under his skin with the intention of making it even harder, for him but unknowingly for yourself, until you felt him starting to penetrate your unused cunt. a broken whimper fell from your lips, a sound you never knew you were capable of making.

it made eunseok’s head spin. the chaotic tameness of your voice. the shocked shudder of your body beneath him and your thighs instinctively attempting to close on him. and the tight, sweet pulse of warmth around his cock. it wasn’t wet, courtesy of eunseok being too zealous. but he couldn’t bring himself to care, because it was like the more he moved and the deeper he pushed, the more intense the pleasure wrecking through his spine.

“please, be gentle,” you whispered to him with a hint of resignation. you didn’t cry, but he tell you wanted to. your voice shook like you were willing it not to.

“gentle?” eunseok repeated, chuckling breathlessly. he had to admit, you had put up one hell of a fight. “not exactly what i had in mind.”

you resisted him. or tried to, at least. but eunseok didn’t have much trouble keeping you comfortably locked beneath him, your feeble attempt to defend yourself doing nothing to hurt him as he forced himself in and out.

but he liked that you tried. because he could feel your body dampening with the effort. your elbows pressing into his thigh. the shape of your ass inadvertently pushing into his grasping hand.

it was exactly as he had imagined.

[hidden-for-reg]

July 24: dealer | @jegulus-microfic | word count: 595

Game nights were James’ favorite.

Every Saturday evening, James would host a small game night at his flat with all of his friends. They’d have a few drinks, maybe order in some food, and play card games for hours. James looked forward to it every week.

But this Saturday was going to be extra special.

Sirius, James’ best friend, was bringing his little brother, Regulus, with him to James’ game night. James had never met Regulus and was thrilled to finally meet Sirius’ brother. 

Sirius had told James that sometimes Regulus was fairly mean and not to expect much out of him. James mulled over that and thought about a million exchanges that might go down between him and Regulus that Saturday. 

However, James hadn’t foreseen that Sirius’ brother would be the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. 

Regulus was the first person to arrive and he came alone. 

When James opened the door his jaw dropped just slightly at the sight of the man in front of him. “Um, hi,” James stammered, “I’m James.” He held out a hand for Regulus to shake. 

“I’m Regulus. Sirius’ brother. I’m sure he’s said something about me,” the other man responded in a cool voice, taking James’ hand. 

He dropped his hand from the shake and led Regulus inside. “You’re the first to arrive, so it’ll be a bit boring before other people show up with the drinks and cards,” James explained, showing Regulus to his living room and gesturing him to sit on the couch with him. 

Regulus nodded and sat down next to James leaving a small gap between them. 

They sat like that, in awkward silence, for a few minutes before James couldn’t bear it anymore and asked, “Um, Sirius said you’re still finishing up in uni?”

Regulus nodded again and turned his piercing grey eyes on James. “Yeah, I’m about done with my last year.”

James muttered something that sounded vaguely like “That’s cool” before blurting again with, “So have you ever played cards before?”

Regulus raised an eyebrow at him. “I wasn’t raised under a rock, of course I’ve played before. What are we playing?” Regulus assured James.

James grinned and answered, “Blackjack.”

The other man’s cheeks went pink, which James found insanely adorable. “Oh.” Regulus looked sheepish all of a sudden. “I’ve actually… never played blackjack before. Our family only ever played poker.”

“Oh,” James said a quick prayer in his head before risking putting his arm around Regulus’ shoulders. “I can teach you the basics right now, if you’d like!” He grinned at the man.

Regulus rolled his eyes good-naturedly and huffed, “I guess.”

“Great!” James exclaimed. “So, in blackjack all the players are trying to get closer to 21 than the dealer, but they can’t hold over 21. If you go over, you bust and get nothing. Each hand is played separate and the end goal is to have a higher hand value than the dealer.”

Regulus’ brows furrowed while he took in the information. When James finished his explanation, Regulus remained quiet.

“So, did you understand any of that?” James asked with an airy chuckle.

The corners of Regulus’ lips tipped up in a small smile that lit up his eyes. “Er, no,” he confessed, laughing a little too.

James waved his hand, dismissing the problem. “Lily’ll explain it better anyway.”

James and Regulus made eye contact and burst out laughing together. 

“PRONGS?”

Their heads snapped to the living room entrance where Sirius stood, bewildered expression on his face and a pack of 6 drinks in his hand. 

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Oops

Azriel x f!Reader

Masterlist.

Summary; Azriel finally meets his mate but quickly regrets it when he finds out how energetic, excited and clumsy she is.

Warnings; mentions of injury. Swearing. Traumatized Cassian.

Just a quick thought I had last night.

Azriel was obsessed with finding his mate so when he finally found you he was ecstatic and then… horrified. He really started to believe that the cauldron was probably caring for his well-being by keeping you hidden. It probably wanted him to live for some years because now that he met you he doubted he would survive long. You were unbearable, insufferable and the reason he had at least one heart attack every day. He couldn’t understand how you could be so naive, energetic and excited every damn minute. Add clumsy to that recipe and there you have it… disaster. He had to remove all his weapons from the rooms you used too, then simple objects like a table lamp became an issue so he got rid of them too. He wondered if he had to remove all the furniture from his room and just leave a mattress on the floor. His shadows were sticking on his side every night exhausted from keeping an eye on you, they looked so desperate that he pitied them. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel was on a mission and you were feeling bored, so you decided to see if Cassian wanted to hang out. You knocked on his bedroom door and waited, bouncing up and down from the anticipation. You heard some rustling and then the door opened. 

“Hey sweetie what’s up?” Cassian smiled when he saw you.

“Az went on a mission and I’m bored” you pouted “wanna hang out?” 

“Yes give me a second to get my shoes” he said and walked back into his room. 

When he came back you decided to go to the city and stroll around.

It was a busy day so the streets were filled with people, you watched as everyone walked around and a burst of energy hit you like a wave. 

“I’ll race you to the square” you yelled and took off. Cassian hot on your heels as he screamed “oh it’s on” 

Everyone jumped out of your way, their eyes wide and their jaws open. Usually you had to push your way through crowd but now that you had an Illyrian giant running behind you they were horrified. 

Just as you were reaching the square you tripped and landed face-first on the ground with a scream. Cassian tried to jump over you since he wasn’t able to stop but he couldn’t so he fell on top of you with a grunt. You felt the air leaving your lungs and groaned.

“Oh no, sweetie are you okay?” Cassian’s voice was soft as he rolled to the ground next to you, his expression panicked.

“Yeah I just…need…a moment…. to catch… my breath” you said between pants.

The general smiled and rubbed your back. 

After a while you pushed yourself up, a grin appearing on your face as you cheered “what’s next?” 

Cassian frowned and stared.

“What?” You asked.

“You want more?” He choked.

“Of course” you giggled and grabbed his arm pulling him with you. 

You guided him in an abandoned building that had been destroyed when the Hybern army attacked the city. You climbed to the roof and sat there.

“The view here is incredible” you said and stared the people passing by the street beneath you.

“You live in the house of wind where the view is a million times better” Cassian snorted.

“Yes but I can’t see the expressions on their faces” you shrugged and pointed at the people beneath you.

You were kicking your legs as you explained to Cassian that you liked to sit here and make stories about the passing by faeries.

“See that kid there? Well he has a crush on the store owner’s daughter so every day he goes there and buys an ice cream just to see her” 

“You can’t know that” Cassian exclaimed.

“No but that’s the fun part of the game… you can make your own stories” 

So you spent the rest of the day there, Cassian’s stories were hilarious and you were in tears, your abdomen aching from laughing so hard.

“Okay okay look at her” he pointed at a female who was running down the street “she had an awful first date with a stingy male and he took her to an old and cheap restaurant and now she has explosive diarrhea and she’s rushing home”

You burst into laughter and leaned forward, you couldn’t breathe and suddenly you lost your balance slipping from the roof and falling into the void. Cassian gasped and jumped, his wings flaring behind him but he wasn’t quick enough and with a groan you landed on your back and darkness engulfed you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When you opened your eyes again you were met with the familiar sight of the ceiling in your shared room with Azriel. 

“You’re awake” a feminine voice said.

You snapped your head in the direction of the voice and felt dizzy by the sudden move.

“Easy y/n… you were hurt” you squinted and saw Madja by your side.

“How are you feeling sweetheart?” She smiled.

“Everything hurts” you croaked.

“I know you are completely bruised and you have a few broken ribs” she caressed your head “I left a tonic here it should help with the pain… if you need something ask someone to come get me” 

“Okay…” you mumbled and she left. You closed your eyes and let sleep take over.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Where the fuck is she?” Someone’s deep voice boomed through the house and you could swear the floor trembled. 

You opened your eyes and tried to listen.

“I don’t give a fuck Cassian, I will handle you when I’m sure that she is okay” it wasn’t just someone’s deep voice but your favorite one, your mate’s. 

You heard loud footsteps getting closer and you tried to sit up, a groan leaving you. The door burst open and Azriel ran to you.

“Are you okay?” He looked like a mess, his eyes were red with black circles beneath them, his hair tangled and his lips looked dry and chapped.

“Are YOU okay?” You asked and grabbed his jaw, hissing at the pain when you lifted your arm.

“I’m okay just tired, I flew as fast as I could to get here” he sighed “where does it hurt? What did Madja say? Do you need something?” He asked in one breath.

“Az calm down I’m okay, just bruised and a few broken ribs. Nothing I can’t handle… I’ve had worse” you smiled.

He snorted at the statement and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Yeah I know you had worse… you are going to be the death of me” he whispered and grabbed your hand placing it on his chest. His heart was beating so fast and hard that you thought it would explode.

“I’m sorry” you mumbled.

“It’s okay… I love your clumsy annoying self” he smiled.

He crawled into bed but kept some distance between the two of you afraid that he was going to hurt you. He was facing you with a longing expression and he draped a protective wing over you. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Morning came and you woke up with Azriel by your side staring at you. 

“Good morning angel” he smiled when you opened your eyes.

“Morning handsome” you mumbled and leaned closer to him. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked and brushed his palm over your cheek. 

“Better, I think with a little help I can get up” you smiled and he groaned earning a confused look from you.

“Here we go again… You were safe here in bed now I have to chase you around all day” he sighed and you giggled.

“I want to go to Cassian and tell him that I’m okay. I don’t want him to feel sad and guilty” you confessed and Azriel growled.

“Come on Az it’s not his fault. I’ve been hurt multiple times around you and I don’t blame you” you pleaded.

“Okay but I think that he is terrified of you, I heard him say that you are not normal” he murmured and got up. 

He helped you get up and guided you to Cassian’s room, you knocked and waited. 

Rustling and then silence.

“Come on Cassie it’s me” you shouted 

Then you heard a gasp and the door locked. And then a high pitched scream 

“Be gone demon” 

Azriel’s lips were a tight line as he nodded and then said “yup traumatized” 

I have some things to do today so I won't be able to post. Requests are open but delayed!